


One Step Closer

by fangirlflail



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Canon Compliant, Canon Crossover, Founders fic, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 10:14:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlflail/pseuds/fangirlflail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Long Game, or if Arthur and Merlin grew up together and fought in the Great Purge.<br/>Altered timeline, true canon crossover. // WiP</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Timeline of Key Events

**Author's Note:**

> An exercise in weaving worlds, politics, and defining love.  
> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Merlin. This is one giant prologue to BBC Merlin.

**-18, 975** = Uther uses Nimuë’s magic to help Ygraine conceive Arthur

 **-17, 976** = Ygraine dies, Arthur is born ; Merlin is born

 **-11, 993** = Hogwarts is founded (Arthur  & Merlin are 6 yrs old)

 **-8, 1001** = Arthur and Merlin meet (9 yrs old)

 **-6, 1003** = Merlin attends Hogwarts ; Arthur begins pagehood training (11 yrs old)

 **-5, 1004** = Year 2 at Hogwarts ; Uther builds relationships with neighbouring kingdoms; Arthur’s first tourney

 **-4, 1005** = Year 3 at Hogwarts ; Arthur begins court training; Census of witches/wizards in Camelot, Balinor brings Kilgharrah to Uther

 **-3, 1006** = Year 4 at Hogwarts ; Witches/Wizards require licenses to practice and sell goods in Camelot

 **-2, 1007** = Year 5 at Hogwarts ; Witches/Wizards are openly persecuted, Dragonlords slaughtered; Salazar severs ties, creates the Chamber of Secrets

 **-1, 1008** = The Great Purge/Cleansing; Battle for Camelot

 **0, 1009** = Merlin comes to Camelot (17 yrs old)


	2. -8, 1001, SUMMER

Something squirmed beneath Arthur. He fumbled back on the heels of his palms to get away.

“Sorry!"

Arthur righted himself and a boy emerged from the pile of cloth he had tripped over. Arthur puffed, “Why were you laying down there? It seems like a stupid place to nap.”

“I wasn’t!”

The boy stood half a head shorter than Arthur and wore muslin trousers and a faded blue shirt.

“For your information I was taking a little rest. I’ve walked a long way.”

“Oh yeah? From where? Who are you anyway?”

The boy crossed his arms, but answered, “My name is Merlin. I’m from Ealdor. I came to trade in Camelot.”

Merlin gestured toward a bulky knapsack at his feet.

“On your own? Where’re your parents?” Arthur asked, at this point having forgotten all about hiding from his father's knights. He had never spoken to another child before, aside from Morgana, but she was...well, a _girl_.

“I had to come on my own. My mum and I can’t afford to _both_ come. Someone’s got to look after the fields and she says I’m too small to do it on my own,” Merlin explained, tipping his head up. Arthur exhaled through his nose and looked away. He shifted his feet to start walking, but Merlin blurted, “I’m only nine.”

Arthur grinned, "Me too! Do you like horseback riding? Do you sword fight where you come from?”

Merlin shook his head as if the very ideas frightened him. If he shook any harder Arthur was convinced his head would fall off. He laughed and reached out, using both hands to bookend Merlin's cheeks.

“Woah. You have big ears,” said Arthur. He poked the tops of them. Merlin turned red and swatted Arthur's hands.

“Will makes fun of me for them all the time." Merlin’s eyebrows scrunched toward his nose. "He’s my friend from home."

Arthur let his hands fall and tapped Merlin's arm. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it, means you’re a good listener, right?”

A huge grin cascaded over Merlin’s face. If it was possible, the smile made his ears seem even bigger and Arthur snorted.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me!”

“No!”

“Come on. What is it?”

Arthur shook his head, “It’s just…I like you better this way. Your face looks funny when you frown.”

“Gee thanks,” Merlin scoffed, bending over and taking up the satchel which was too big for him. He cast it over his shoulder with some effort and began walking toward the gates of Camelot.

“Hey wait! I only meant it as a joke. Come on. I bet my face looks funny too when I frown,” Arthur suggested, grabbing hold of Merlin’s shoulder. He turned Merlin around. Merlin rolled his eyes, expecting to see at most an exaggerated pout but Arthur had turned his lips up toward his nose so that his front teeth were exposed like a gopher. One jewel blue eye popped out while his other eye remained squinted shut completely. He sucked his cheeks in and turned his ears inward with two fingers from each hand.

Merlin bent over, breathless. When he managed to straighten, he met Arthur's grin.

“That wasn’t a frown at all!” Merlin said. He hitched the bag higher onto his shoulder.

“No, but it made you laugh didn’t it?” asked Arthur, smug and victorious.

“Yeah,” Merlin agreed. The two of them began walking side-by-side through the field. A tingle lingered in Merlin's stomach. He chanced a glance at Arthur. They continued in silence and were almost to the gates before Merlin worked up the courage to ask, “What’s your name?”

“Arthur!” A man clopped toward them, his blond hair a complete mess. He did not look pleased. Merlin eyed the dragon emblazoned on his chest warily.

Arthur winced at Merlin, but it quickly melted into a stupid grin. With another tap on the arm and a wink, Arthur said, “See ya around, Merlin!” before racing away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hearts beat fast. / Colours and promises. / How to be brave / How can I love when I'm afraid / to fall


	3. -7, 1002, SPRING

“I’ll be back ‘round in the summer,” Merlin reassured, staring up at the sky with a hand on his stomach and the other at his side. He waited a moment and when no response came, tipped his head to look at the boy who lay beside him. “Did you hear me, Arthur?”

“Yeah. I know.” His voice was soft and short.

The two had met that morning at _their_ spot: a well-hidden portion of the creek embankment which ran, they supposed, all the way from the Great Mountains in the distance back to Camelot.

Merlin threw an arm half-heartedly in Arthur's direction. The prince swatted it away. “Come on. You’re not gonna miss me that much.”

“It’s boring without you,” Arthur complained, eyes still trained on the passing clouds. His hands supported his head from behind. Merlin was wary of being jabbed in the face by Arthur’s popped elbow. Still, he grinned in Arthur’s direction.

“So that’s it then? I just keep you from being bored?”

“You know what I mean.”

Merlin closed his eyes. In Ealdor, the days passed like half-remembered dreams. His days were monotonous and his thoughts evaporated as soon as they came. When he was in Camelot, everything was clearer. He stopped going through the motions and actually breathed in each moment. Arthur managed to run into Merlin each time he traded in Camelot. Every month they swapped stories, went on explorations, and even spent an entire visit drawing a castle map from memory. Merlin grew to anticipate and even enjoy the long journeys to Camelot. Sometimes he would linger, but it was never long enough. His mother needed him.

Merlin let his hand drop to the grass. “Well if you’re _that_ bored without me, maybe you ought to come to Ealdor.”

“Don’t be an idiot. You know my father would never let me leave Camelot. Besides, you always say there’s nothing to do in Ealdor.”

“There isn’t. We haven’t got tournaments or festivals like Camelot.”

“What do you do then?” Arthur asked, this time his turn to look at Merlin’s profile. He cocked an eyebrow, as was his custom when he was left waiting for more than a second. Merlin tried not to smile. Arthur's lip twitched. Merlin widened his eyes to stay his laughter. After five full seconds Arthur propped himself up on an elbow, rolled onto his side, and used his free hand to wipe the smug grin off Meriln's face.

Merlin’s words became muffled by Arthur’s palm, but he escaped, laughing easily, “Alright alright! I’ll show you but you have to stand up.”

Arthur was on his feet instantly. His sun-bleached hair took to the wind. When the mop settled out of his eyes, Merlin stood in front of him.

“Alright. I can’t promise it’ll happen because it’s strange, but I’ll try,” Merlin breathed. He shifted his feet to face the creek edge. He raised his left hand forward, fingers spread wide and concentrated on the river rocks.

Arthur followed the length of Merlin’s arm with his gaze and scrutinized their surroundings. Nothing seemed different. The wind brushed the grasses lining the bank, the water burbled over the stones and the canopy of chatty leaves above allowed sunshine to wink through.

“Wow. That was amazing. You made it windy,” said Arthur, which earned him a snarp glare.

“Don’t be a prat! I told you it doesn’t always work.”

“What was I supposed to see anyway?” Arthur asked. He hopped toward the river and dug a boot into the dirt. Water quickly filled the hole. Curls of sediment swirled upward to catch in the flowing current.

“I dunno,” Merlin grumbled. He squatted on his ankles. “Something neat.”

“That’s SO specific, _Mer_ lin,” the prince teased, chucking a twig into the center of the running water. He looked back toward where Merlin sat sulkily wringing his fingers together and giving him a fierce scowl. A second later Arthur felt something strike him smartly on the back of his head. “OW!”

He whirled around, not finding the culprit in sight and subsequently looked down. On the grass at his feet was the wet branch he had thrown into the river. How had it gotten there?

“Was that…” Arthur looked up and when he received only a wide-eyed stare, gaped in response. “You did _magic!_ ”

Merlin sat there frozen, unsure of Arthur's reaction. After a moment of stunned silence, Arthur reiterated, “You! You did _magic_!”

Merlin nodded his head ferociously in agreement. Arthur practically skipped over and began shaking Merlin’s shoulders violently. “I can’t believe it! That’s amazing! How does it work? Does it feel weird? Do something else!”

“Ssssssttoop-p-p-p-p shhhhaaa-k-k-k-k-inggggg meeeeeeee!” Merlin pleaded, his voice vibrating. Arthur halted. Merlin gathered himself. “I told you it happens whenever it wants to. It doesn’t feel weird though…it feels…right. I just can’t make it happen whenever I want right now.”

“But you will be able to in the future?” Arthur beamed at the thought of all the ways they could cause further mischief and enhance their adventures with this new found ability.

Merlin simply shrugged.

Arthur said nothing. Merlin assumed he was soaking the information in. Then without warning Arthur landed a bop on the back of his head.

“What was that for?”

Arthur crossed his arms and supplied, “Well 1) for not telling me sooner, and 2) for using magic to hit me on the back of the head with a stick!”

“You deserved it!”

“I suppose it wasn’t a very nice thing to say.”

“No, it wasn’t!”

They locked eyes, glaring prideful. Not two seconds later, both boys cracked, hooting with laughter that followed them all the way back to Camelot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But watching you stand alone / All of my doubt / Suddenly goes away somehow


	4. -7, 1002, SUMMER

“Hold out your hand and close your eyes and I’ll give you a big surprise,” Merlin sang. Arthur rolled his eyes but did as he was instructed.

He felt Merlin’s fingertips set something cold in his palm.

“TA DA!”

Arthur gazed down to find a single gold coin winking innocently at him.

“It’s…why are…this looks rather _small_ to me,” Arthur observed.

“It’s not just any coin,” Merlin chided. He lifted an identical one up to eye-level. “Watch. _Þærinne ymbcierran. I búgan þéos!”_

Merlin’s eyes blazed gold at exactly the same time the coin in Arthur’s palm flashed hotly. When they melted back to gray, Merlin's eyes flicked down. Arthur squinted, inspecting the trinket. The numbers around the edge of the coin had changed. Instead of a forger’s mark, it read _1-21-7-21-19- 20 20_. Otherwise the coin appeared quite normal.

“It’s the next time I can visit. Each number represents a letter, which spells out a month. The remaining digits are the date. See? Whenever it changes, you’ll know when I’m coming to Camelot! Your father won’t be upset about you coming down to the lower circle all the time.”

Arthur didn’t look up. Merlin was afraid he had gone too far.

Then, Arthur’s lips split to reveal his uneven teeth. His eyes met Merlin’s.

“This is brilliant!” Arthur latched a hand onto Merlin’s shoulder. “It’s genius!”

Merlin blushed from his ears to his nose.

**\--**

Arthur and Godric sat in the green outer circle soaking up the afternoon sun, the knight with his legs extended and back slightly reclined and the boy with his legs tented.

“Why do you leave Camelot so much? Where do you go?” Arthur asked. He rubbed his sweaty palms against his kneecaps before resting his elbows there.

Without warning Godric wrestled Arthur into a headlock and noogied him. “Why? You miss all my attentions?”

Arthur cried a stream of protests. He clawed at Godric’s spade-sized hands. The knight’s laughter vibrating against his cheek was comforting, though Arthur would never admit it. Godric released him and Arthur pouted.

“Don’t fret, Arthur. I’ve got someone I want you to meet. Come on.” Godric rose to his feet and tossed his head toward the stables. “I’ll race you.”

Arthur bolted and heard Godric’s “cheater!” follow. Both panted lightly as they reached the stable door, Godric a stride ahead and Arthur bent at the waist, hands on his knees. “No fair! You always win. Your legs are longer.”

“But you have the advantage of youth!”

“You’re not old, Godric.” Arthur straightened.

The knight pushed open the stable door. “No, but I do think you need someone your age to play with.”

They stepped inside. Servants were mucking out and filling the horse pens with new straw. The smell was strong, but both had grown accustomed to it over the years. Godric whistled. A boy feeding a black mare looked up. Godric beckoned. Arthur saw the boy was dressed a bit finer than the other servants, but not by much. He wore a sturdy looking cotton tunic that laced at the sleeves and chest. His pants were black but smothered with grime from a day’s work. His ankle-high boots appeared well worn in, but not falling apart. Like Godric, the boy moved with complete control of his body and the same steady blue eyes flickered from Godric to Arthur from behind a mass of wavy hair.

Clapping a hand to each of the boys’ shoulders, Godric introduced, “Arthur, this is Leon. He is page to Sir William. It is my hope that you will be great friends.”

Leon tipped his head. “Pleasure to meet you, Prince Arthur.”

Arthur laughed and slugged Leon’s shoulder. “If we’re going to be friends you’ve got to call me Arthur. None of that ‘prince’ or ‘sire’ business!”

“Unless you’re around Uther,” Godric pointed out. He smirked at Leon. “Lest you desire a trip to the stocks for your impudence.”

Leon laughed, but when he realized Godric was only half joking, he stopped mid-chortle. “Yes, sir.”

“Off you get, then!” Godric commanded, shoving them out the door. “Go have an adventure. Just be back for supper.”

It's easy to make friends when you're young. Leon's loyalty made him an irreplaceable comrade and Arthur's natural pride made him the leader. They spent nearly every day together, but whenever the coin notified him, Arthur would make an excuse to sneak out of the castle alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One step closer


	5. -6, 1003, SUMMER

Merlin rose from the water and the fragrant summer wind spiraled around him. Arthur basked in the sun, throwing stones into the river. The water droplets like white freckles disappeared one by one every time he pulled his arm back for another fling. Merlin swallowed. It was now or never. He wiped his dripping hand on his discarded shirt and pulled the letter out of his bag. He handed it to Arthur.

Arthur took it without question and flipped open the envelope. When he saw the official seal, he pressed his lips tightly to keep from mouthing the rest of the paragraphs as he read. When he finished, he looked up.

“I got it two weeks ago,” Merlin said, wringing his fingers together so he couldn't snatch the letter back. "It’s an invitation to attend school. It’s called Hogwarts”-Arthur snorted-“and it’s supposed to be a school for learning magic.”

“You already know magic," Arthur scoffed. "What do you need to go to school for? You can do loads of things!”

“Well yeah, but I still don’t really know _how_ I do it.” Merlin shrugged. He rubbed his palms on the rock behind him. “Besides, the man who gave me the letter said that I wouldn’t even have to pay. He said that there are special services for people like…well, for me.”

Arthur frowned and Merlin looked away. Pink inched up his neck.

“So what? You’re just gonna leave for-”

“A year.”

“A _year_!?” Arthur cried, nearly falling off his little rock. He rounded on Merlin.

“I’ll write you!” Merlin pleaded. “I promise! I do! I’ll write you all the time and tell you everything. I might be able to come back for the harvest as well.”

“It’s not the same,” huffed Arthur. He stuck the letter to Merlin’s chest and tromped to the river edge to pick up his dried boots.

“Arthur," Merlin whined. He dropped the letter by his bag and followed the prince. “Come on. I can’t help it. I want to learn magic and I want to do it right. Please understand. This means a lot to me.”

Merlin watched Arthur shove his feet into the boots. His bare back swayed.

Merlin couldn't go off to Hogwarts without Arthur’s blessing.

Arthur stood up and studied Merlin's face. Merlin tried to remain calm, but the throb of the water pulsed in his heart and rushed through his ears. Something must have shown in his eyes because Arthur nodded. “I know it does. You should go and learn all you can. Be the greatest wizard of all time! But you have to promise me…”

Merlin’s eyes widened and he nodded, “Anything!”

“You’ll write to me every day AND when you become famous, I’ll still be your number one friend.”

Merlin crossed his heart and replied with a solemn face, “I, Merlin Emrys, swear to write you, Arthur Pendragon, every day while I am away and also swear that if I ever become famous, you will be my number one friend…though that last one is rubbish because we’re best mates for life.”

Arthur laughter rubbed a little of the sting away. His hug did the rest. Merlin threw an arm around his best friend’s shoulder and squeezed a half hug as they made their way back toward Camelot.

\--

It took a week for the news to truly sink in.

“What’s the matter, Arthur? You look sick,” Morgana whispered.

“It’s nothing.” Arthur stared at his plate. He wouldn’t be seeing Merlin for a whole year. A month had been enough but now he had to endure four seasons to pass. No running through the wheat sending up flocks of crows, no burning of the leaves, no apple eating in the orchard, no swimming, no campfires and exploring the vast caverns beneath the city. No Merlin.

Morgana folded her lips inward, but she held her tongue.

That night Arthur laid spread eagle staring up at the canopy of his four-poster.

The coin felt very cold in his open hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have died every day waiting for you / Darling, don't be afraid


	6. -6, 1003 (YEAR 1)

**FALL**

Arthur sat upright in bed and rubbed his eyes furiously. The persistent _clack clack_ continued. He squinted and caught the edge of a shadow fluttering across the moonlit floor. Arthur tracked the shadow to the window where a small bird struggled to stay aloft as it pecked and clawed the glass. Arthur threw off the blanket and flinched when his bare feet hit the stone. He padded across the room and pulled the frame. The bird aimed for the top of the covers, but dipped too low due to its burden, and careened into the wall of blankets. It thrashed under the cover, hooting pathetically until it found its feet. Arthur reached for the corner of the blanket and threw it off. The fluff ball ruffled its wings and hopped to the footboard where it perched itself proudly.

It was an owl, no bigger than Arthur's hand with wide black eyes and red-brown feathers. White tufts around its eyes formed crescent shapes that highlighted its beak and the white arch around its mouth looked like a miniature moustache. Marbled chest feathers puffed in and out. The owl’s claws were tiny but it appeared to be trained quite well and simply lifted its leg as Arthur approached. A scroll hung from its ribbed ankle.

Arthur removed the cylinder slowly, weighing it in his hand. The owl whistled appreciatively. Arthur realized how heavy it must’ve been for the creature. The scroll was practically a book! Walking over to his desk, Arthur lit a few candles and sat down. The owl fluttered toward the warmth and perched itself on the back of Arthur’s chair.

Arthur tipped the letter toward the glow to scrutinize the wax seal. It was messy but clearly a shield with a large ‘H’ in the center. He took a knife from the desk drawer and sliced it open, eager to unfurl the pages and read.

_Dear Arthur,_

_I hope my first letter arrived in one piece. Preparations for my departure were so chaotic that I forgot to think how I would even send you these! Thank goodness Hogwarts also provided me with this owl. His name is Archimedes and he’ll be delivering my letters to you. I don’t know how long the journey’s been for him, so maybe in future you could give him something to eat or drink before sending him on his way? He’s pretty small and I was scared at first, but if my letter has reached you I will never doubt his abilities again!_

_I also realize now that this is the first time you have seen my written hand, so I apologize. I haven’t had much occasion to write until now but I suspect my hand will improve immensely! For now you’ll have to endure the “chicken scratch” as my mother calls it._

_Where to even begin? I suppose I should start from where I left you. After I returned to Ealdor I needed to leave straight away. Packing was easy. The worst bit was talking to Will. He wasn’t pleased. He’s really suspicious of everything so when I told him that I didn’t have to pay, he was concerned. He said that there was no way anyone would pay for a peasant, even one with magic, to go to school. It made me upset because I didn’t ask for this. Anyway, he couldn’t argue much because before I knew it the man who gave me my invitation appeared. I mean he literally appeared! There was a sound like the crack of a whip and he was right outside my door. Mum nearly fainted. He introduced himself as Filius Fennick, the book keeper of Hogwarts and its grounds. As he briefly described his position I got the sense that he does all the odd jobs around the school on top of his other duties. After a few words with him I said my goodbyes. I cried even though I tried not to._

_The funny part is that I have no idea how far Hogwarts is from Ealdor. It must be further than we can ride because Filius said I would be traveling by Side-Along Apparition. I had no idea what that was, but I found out quickly! He warned me that many students feel sick the first time they Apparate but that it was the quickest and most efficient way._

_He told me to hold his hand and not let go under any circumstance. I held on for dear life! It was the strangest sensation. It felt as if a giant fishing hook suddenly whisked me off my feet. The air around me pushed and pulled at the same time. I couldn’t breathe!_

_We popped into the middle of a village square. I was thankful I wasn’t ill because Filius moved right away. We walked down a stone path through an archway and onto a dock. A dozen boats waited, rocking in the dark water. He opened up a chest with my initials stamped on it. Inside were a number of books which I will read to death! They are all fascinating and talk about magic in a way I never thought of before. I guess that’s why I’m going to school. I know you don’t care much for reading but I think you’d be dying for a piece of_ Elemental Magic Made Elementary! _or even_ Quintessence : A Quest!

_He shut the lid and told me that the trunk and books were mine, but that I needed to purchase the rest of my school things on my own in the village. I was to meet him at these boats by dusk. He gave me a list of supplies and a small bag of coins and Disapparated. I’ve never been given such a large sum of money before, so it was a treat even though I knew it was for purchasing potion ingredients, ink, quills, and parchment. I spent the afternoon walking the village doing just that._

_When I returned to the docks with my parcels I found a whole group of students waiting. Filius arrived promptly and ushered us into the boats. We had to ride in groups of four to the castle. The wind off the lake was so cold! I was sure the gusts would capsize our boat. Even you would’ve been scared. Don’t tell your father, but I think Hogwarts is as big as Camelot! It was certainly a sight to see with the windows all aglow. I felt so small._

_We reached the shore and hiked up the steps in silence. No one wanted to say the first word, although I did see one girl looking rather ill. Filius guided us up a grand staircase and into the Great Hall._

_The room was warm and at least forty students in black robes were already seated at long banquet tables. At the foot of the Hall sat the founders of Hogwarts. They stood as we approached. We stopped in the aisle just before a single stool atop which rested a pointed hat. The four welcomed us in unison and introduced themselves. I memorized their names instantly: Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin._

_The sorting into houses came next. Sir Godric stepped around the table and cast a spell on a pointed hat, which immediately began to sing! It told of how Hogwarts came to be, described each house, and explained how Godric had cleverly bewitched the hat so that it could sort the students in the teachers' stead. When the hat’s song ended, Sir Godric instructed every new student to take turns sitting on the stool. He placed the hat on, which deliberated before calling out one of the founder's names._

_I know you’re eager to discover which house I’ve been placed in! It must’ve been five minutes I was sitting there. It finally placed me in Slytherin. I was thankful to just have it off. At least I didn’t end up like this one Gryffindor. She sat on the stool for nearly ten minutes. I was afraid we’d never get to eat and sleep!_

_When the sorting was complete we had a magnificent feast. There was more food on the table than I have ever seen in my entire life! Whole pheasants stuffed with chestnuts, roasted boar, boiled potatoes, buttered vegetables, and towers of rolls. I must’ve had four plates. Then the dessert! Fresh fruit by the barrels, spiced cider, and sweet pumpkin cakes. I had died and gone to heaven! I thought of sending you and mum some, but I figured filching food on the first day wasn't a good idea. You’ll just have to settle for my account of it, and if you’re lucky, perhaps a recipe in the future (assuming I can weasel my way into the kitchens, wherever they are)._

_During the feast, Sir Godric was certainly lively. His hearty laughter filled the entire hall._

_Mistress Rowena is very beautiful. She was dressed in a fine gown I bet Morgana would’ve loved. From what I hear her students are ridiculously clever._

_Madame Helga seems the kindest of the professors. During the sorting she applauded each student, regardless of whether or not they entered her house. She smiled all through the feast._

_My mentor, Master Salazar was reserved for most of the night. I saw him smile twice as he spoke to his students and laugh only once when Godric leaned toward him to share a joke. Despite his cool nature, I think Master Salazar was pleased to have new witches and wizards in his house. After the meal finished, the professors dictated the rules about school boundaries, classes, and behavior. Then, we were dismissed one house at a time, following our respective Heads to the dormitories._

_Each house has its own wing of the castle. Slytherins own the lower level, the dungeons. I’m not supposed to tell anyone about our rooms, but I think the secret is safe with you. Our common room is below ground level so despite the fire, the entire room glows green from the waters of the lake. I think it’s eerie but everyone else seems to like it. I share a room with three other boys. They talk a lot but say very little. The first night they compared their vast knowledge of spell work and swapped stories of their magical experiences. One claimed to have levitated a whole fleet of servants at the age of two. They asked me about my family and home. When I told them about farming and living in Ealdor they stared at me like a herd of cows. They haven’t spoken up since but I am glad because it means I can write to you in peace._

_Tomorrow we begin classes and I have to admit I am scared. I have all the supplies I need, I just don’t know if I can handle doing magic around anyone besides you. I feel really stupid. Although part of me is awed by the school (believe me we would have so much fun exploring every corner!), another part of me hopes that they will send me home after they find out how much of a dunce I am._

_Your friend,_ _  
_Merlin

 

Arthur finished reading, skimmed back over the entire letter, and then removed writing supplies from his desk. He had to pen a response immediately! He smoothed a sheet of blank parchment carefully, dropped iron ledgers to hold it in place, and made certain to use just the right amount of ink. Arthur began:

 

_Dear Merlin,_

_Everything sounds amazing! The feast and the sorting. The castle and your new room. It’s much more interesting than anything that’s happened here lately (no parties, no knighting, and no tournaments), though I have to admit I was only a little surprised when you mentioned Godric. I’ve known him since I was born. He is one of father’s knights and best friends. He’s been using magic for ages and shows me tricks when father isn’t looking. In Camelot, Godric trains pages, squires, and other knights. I’ve watched him win tournaments year after year, but I can’t imagine him being a magical instructor! You’ll have to tell me what he’s like as a teacher. I’ve heard him mention your master, Salazar, to my father, though I don’t know much except that he is also a wizard. I suspect Godric and Salazar have known each other for probably half as long as Godric and my father have known one another, though I can’t be certain._

_Not much has changed here, except that with you gone, I’ve had to employ Morgana as my assistant. We’ve been searching the castle for more secret passages at night. Morgana claims it’s more fun because it’s creepier. I think she just doesn’t like going to sleep. Anyway, last night, we were sneaking past my father’s chamber when we overheard him speaking with Godric. I was shocked to hear his voice since I knew him to be traveling, though I had no idea it was to Hogwarts. How had he come back so quickly? But now it all makes sense!_

_Father was going on about how Godric’s been his most trusted knight since forever and Godric was saying how that wasn’t going to change but that he needed to continue his teaching at Hogwarts. He insisted that they, I can only assume he meant him and his fellow teachers, were improving. I think he was about to give my father a report about his progress but at that point Morgana was stupid and sneezed so we had to run or risk getting caught._

_I’ll keep you updated if I hear more, but like I said, your letters will definitely be more entertaining._

Arthur _  
P.S. The bird is pretty neat. Can you get me one?_

\--

_Dear Arthur,_

_Today we had our first lesson which lasted the entire day! I was so nervous I skipped breakfast but that won’t happen again. I guess most wizards and witches can’t do magic without a wand. You’d probably laugh because a wand really just looks like a fancy stick but I think they’re neat and I got to make one. We chose from a lot of interesting ingredients that Master Salazar told us were crucial for the core. I chose a unicorn hair because the rest looked gross. Then we got to pick what type of wood we wanted to use. Mine is English Oak. It’s pretty plain looking but I still like it and it’s amazing the things I’ve already seen upper level students do with theirs. Ours need to cure for a while. Master Salazar dumped our newly crafted wands into a salt water bath. He said we’ll get them in a month, but I am eager._

_Dinner was delicious again. I’ll probably be the size of a troll (they exist, I’ve seen a drawing in one of my books!) the next time you see me, but I don’t care._

_The only other thing I could wish for would be you. There’s so much to see here but no one to discover it with. I haven’t made any friends although I did run into a Hufflepuff boy by accident. I don’t think that counts, do you?_

_Your friend,_ _  
_Merlin

\--

_Dear Merlin,_

_I’ve begun my road to knighthood! I am officially Godric’s page, so I suppose I’ll find out how great of a teacher he is first hand. I have many pagely duties. My main tasks include tending to Godric’s personal steed, learning the different types of armour and weaponry, strength, agility, and endurance training, and horsemanship. Honestly the physical work is highly enjoyable. I wake up every morning and run, throw and lift. Although I’ve just begun, I have so much to look forward to! I will practice with battle axes, maces, and daggers in the future. At the moment Godric has me focused on the two-handed swords (though we use wooden ones which are less than half the weight) and the lance. There’s a move I’ve been working on called a couch, which is where you train to hold a lance under one arm in order to steady it. Right now I’ve only been practicing on the ground. On a horse it’ll be a lot more difficult, especially since the lance is designed to knock your opponent off. We practice with wooden horses sometimes. Not comfortable._

_When I’m not training with Godric (how does he find the time to be in two places at once?) I am sitting beside my father in the throne room. It is incredibly boring, but I have to pretend to be the perfect prince and take notes. It’s ridiculous. I don’t understand half the things that are said, but I suppose I need to start somewhere. For instance, the other day my father met with some kings. They were discussing a new trade route and establishing a treaty of some kind. Anyway, the topic turned to Hogwarts when Godric started discussing the coursework and explaining the benefits of magical education. Father sort of brushed it off, laughing about how it was a pet project. He seemed uncomfortable that Godric should mention it in front of the two kings. Godric looked furious but held his tongue. I wanted to talk to him after the meeting, but father sent me straight to bed._

_Rather put out,_ _  
_Arthur

 

Merlin actively traced the slow current of the Black Lake with his eyes, watching the ripples push fallen leaves toward the shore. October was one of his favourite months, but the patchwork wash of warm foliage completing his stunning view of the lake did little to comfort him. His hands clenched and unclenched around Arthur's letter.

The weather was perfect and every student had decided to explore the grounds. Several groups had chosen to shop at the small village down the hill. Despite his surroundings, Merlin felt more alone than ever. Two months had passed. He missed his mother, Ealdor, Will, and Arthur. Everyone in the Slytherin common room seemed to be avoiding him like the plague. He suspected it was his poverty and subsequent sponsorship which drove them away. Whatever the reason, it left Merlin in the same situation.

“You look upset.”

Merlin jumped. He hadn’t even noticed the shadow fall across his outstretched legs. He looked up and squinted immediately. The sun eclipsed the silhouette of a girl with long hair catching in the wind.

“Sorry?”

“You are upset, are you not? What is that you’re holding?” she asked, coming into view by sinking to her knees beside Merlin.

Her voice was barely audible and Merlin felt stupid having to ask her repeat the second question again before he answered. “It’s a letter from my friend.”

“Ah. That must be nice.” Merlin watched her long lashes flutter. Her gaze was soft but uncomfortably lasting; Merlin had the absurd feeling that she knew everything about his friendship with Arthur. 

“The holiday is coming up. Can you see your friend then?”

“No. I’ll be staying here.”

They sat in silence watching the wide clouds throw the surface of the lake in and out of shadow.

“I saw you in Charms class. You were performing the levitation spell quite well,” the girl said. Merlin was about to say thank you, but, “You’re not a Slytherin. How could you have seen me in Charms class?” came out instead.

The strange girl smiled airily, not with a streak of arrogance, but with an appreciation for his quick logic. “Ravenclaws study in the courtyard during the same time. I’m Freya. You’re Merlin.”

Merlin nodded.

“Would you believe me if I told you that I can see the future? Your future?” Freya asked. A quiet indifference radiated from her.

Merlin tipped his head to one side, studying her round eyes. She waited patiently.

At last he said, “I’d believe you.”

“That’s good, but I can’t,” Freya replied matter-of-factly. She stood up and looked down at Merlin’s open mouth. He started laughing.

“You’re very strange, Freya.”

“And you were alone, Merlin, but now you’re not.”

She offered him a hand. With a small smile, he took it.

\-----

**WINTER**

Arthur woke to find that the frost of late November had finally yielded snowfall. He clambered from his bed to the window and peered into the courtyard below where servants were already making walkways. Despite the empty fireplace, Arthur opened his window, hoping to coax a handful of snowflakes into his palm. He reached out only to be rewarded with a much heavier object. Archimedes fell from the eve above and landed in Arthur’s open palm. The owl chirped weakly. Arthur moved him inside, shut the window, and took the letter from his leg. At that moment, a servant stumbled into the room, apologizing profusely about the lack of fire, and set to work delivering a hot breakfast and tending to the embers. Within moments, the logs were lit, and Arthur set Archimedes on the table near the hearth. The bird rolled to the edge and perched, stretching its stiff wings.

Arthur sat down in front of his food and began to eat as he unfolded the parchment.

 

_Dear Arthur,_

_Two major events have occurred since last I wrote: we have had our first snow here at Hogwarts and I’ve made one friend. Well, I think she’s my friend. We pass each another in the halls and eat at least one meal together every day, but she’s from Ravenclaw so we don’t have class together. Her name is Freya. She’s pretty quiet, very clever, and funny, but asks weird questions. I think you’d like her. We spend most of our time studying. She loves the lake so we sit outside even though it’s winter. From what I can gather she hasn’t got much family and is also sponsored like me. Hopefully you can meet her someday!_

_Classes have been trying so far. I bet you can’t guess why! It’s not because the material is difficult. I’ve actually read_ Simple Charms: An Anthology _five times and_ Potion Botany for Beginners _six. It’s not that I’m bored either! Give up? It’s because last week I had an_ incident _in class. It was probably the most embarrassing moment of my life. It started when Master Salazar asked us to perform our Hover Charms and I forgot the wand movement despite having practiced it for an hour the night before. No one actually made anything hover, but they all at least moved their wands whereas I dropped mine completely.That wasn’t the worst of it. The next day Master Salazar found me dozing in class. He was justifiably severe and asked in front of the whole class whether or not I felt I were clever enough to spend his lessons sleeping rather than working. I apologized and explained that I hadn’t meant to offend, that the reason why I had been dozing was because I had been practicing the levitation spell all night and I was so thrilled at mastering it that I had spent the following morning learning the rest of the book._

 _Master Salazar demanded I perform the spell for him. I had no choice! I stood up and cast the Hover Charm on my desk before my nerves stopped me. Thankfully it worked! I was so relieved that I accidentally dropped the desk and one of the legs splintered. The whole class stared. Master Salazar said nothing for a moment. I was afraid he was going to yell, but instead he drew my_ Simple Charms _book across the table, opened it to a random spell and insisted I cast it. I looked at the page and prayed it would work. I waved my wand and with a snap, the desk leg repaired._

_We must’ve stood frozen for an entire minute. Then, Master Salazar congratulated me on my progress and announced that despite my setback (not having been raised in a magic household) I have exceeded his expectations. He made me an example by assigning a heftier workload for all. My fellow classmates were not pleased. The boys make rude comments about how I must enjoy lording my skill above them, how they must bow to my awesome powers. They call me the Prince of Enchanters. You can imagine how classes have been difficult since then._

_On the bright side, Master Salazar has already given me a collection of third year books to look over. He wants me to try the spells in_ Intermediate Charms: An Anthology. _I have a feeling he will test me on them soon. When he asked if I had advanced in any other subjects, I confessed about my potions reading. He told me that a theoretical knowledge was not enough and invited me to use his store of ingredients for extra practice. I didn’t know how to react, so I thanked him._

_But enough about me! How are you? Is Camelot covered in snow as well? Do you train inside instead? Or do you simply wait until spring? Will you have a mid-winter feast? We have a break in just a few weeks. I suspect you’ll see Godric soon! They’ve made special arrangements for me and several others to stay. I don’t mind staying at Hogwarts. There’s so much to explore and I always prefer the silence when I study. I do miss mum, but I have been writing to her. She promised to send a little something with Archimedes._

_Your friend,_  
Merlin  
 _P.S. I honestly wasn’t trying to show off._

 

Arthur was thankful he had finished drinking because he would’ve spat had he been reading Merlin’s last words. “Merlin’s an idiot sometimes, isn’t he?” He laughed, folded the letter, and glanced at Archimedes, who tipped his head at an impossible angle. Arthur reasoned that owls must not have necks. Arthur slid off his chair. 

Archimedes whistled and floated to Arthur’s desk. Arthur followed. “Who would be so blunt as to claim mastery over a spell let alone an entire book, even if he was telling the truth?”

Arthur withdrew some parchment and sat down. He pointed a finger at Archimedes. “You’d think he’d have some sense to keep that bit quiet, but no. When Merlin has something to say, he just spits it right out.”

The owl blinked one eye and then the other. Arthur took that as agreement and set his quill to paper.

\--

The rest of the day Arthur and Leon assisted the knights in clearing enough snow for carts to pass through the lower square. It was tough work, but Arthur enjoyed the burn in his muscles and the way the weather seemed to change from freezing cold to unbearably hot by the time they were finished. Sweating through their layers, the boys marched into the semi-warmth of the castle. All the torches and fires were lit, but Arthur knew from growing up in a castle that rooms were seldom warm enough. The drafty hallways counteracted the benefit of closed windows and doors, so he relished in the last few moments of residual heat before it turned into cold sweat.

Arthur shucked his dragon-hide gloves and sodden cloak from his shoulders.

“See you at dinner,” Leon waved and started down the corridor. The pages typically ate together.

“Er, I’ve got dinner with my father tonight.”

Leon stopped, nodded once as if accepting a command, and departed.

\--

That evening, Arthur sat across from Morgana. They had both finished eating and were poised obediently stiff, staring at one another and conveying questions through arched eyebrows and squints. At the head of the table, Uther grazed over a platter of dried fruit. He cleared his throat. “I see you are both anxious about something.”

“Not at all,” Morgana replied. She pivoted her head. “It’s just the weather.”

Uther folded his napkin and reclined. He rested his left elbow at the very back of the chair arm. “Yes, it will make their journey a bit difficult, but I’m sure by the time they arrive the weather will be fair enough.”

“Who?” This time, Arthur.

“Why, the king of Nemeth, King Olaf and his daughter, the Princess Vivian, King Alined, and Lord Godwyn from Gawant with the Princess Elena. This spring I intend to begin a new tradition, Dragon Fest. There will be games, hunting, and feasting of course.” Uther waved and two servants appeared. One held a rectangular box for Morgana. The other offered a tiny chest to Arthur.

They looked to Uther and when he closed his eyes, took the gifts. Morgana opened hers first. She gasped when her fingers brushed the silk ties and gold embroidery. Out of the box came a plum coloured dress. Tiny beads and tassels formed a small dragon at the center of the neckline and thin lines of lace wrapped around the midsection.

“You will be finer than both Vivian and Elena,” Uther smiled.

Arthur clicked open the chest. Embedded between two small velvet cushions rested a curious silver instrument in the shape of a fire-breathing dragon. When he pulled the charm out a chain followed. It was a necklace. Arthur turned it over in his hand and saw that the tip of the tail flattened to a point with a hole. Its open wings concealed a square gap on its back, camouflaged among the bumpy spinal ridges. From its open mouth spouted a fan of silver flames.

“I had it fashioned especially for you,” Uther said. “It’s a whistle. I want you to come with us on our Dragon Hunt.”

Arthur gaped, throwing the chain over his neck. He measured the length by allowing the charm to rest naturally against his stomach. He looked up. “Really? I get to go too? Thank you, father!”

He caught his father’s smirk and then looked to Morgana, whose smile had turned sour for just a moment. Although the dress was beautiful, Arthur knew she would much rather go on the hunt as well. However, when Uther turned to gauge her reaction, he received only Morgana’s best fawn.

“This dress is gorgeous!" Morgana gushed, "Gwen and I must choose the perfect jewelry to match. I can’t wait to wear it!”

Arthur turned the whistle in his hand. The weight of the metal reminded him of the other trinket in his pocket. He resigned to write Merlin again that night.

\-----

**SPRING**

The blinding frost of winter gave way to a strong spring. A surreal humidity enveloped Hogwarts castle. The breeze carried through the open windows and hallways, but students were not yet awake to enjoy the warmth. Merlin sat alone in the courtyard on a patch of dry bench. It was so early that only in the distance could he hear birds chirping.

Merlin decided one of the most annoying aspects of changing seasons was the _plok plok plok_ of melting snow as it slid off the castle roof and onto the sills. It was a lazy, uneven pattern, unpredictable yet constant. He tucked his head in and rolled his shoulders. Suddenly, pain shot through his spine and he was reminded of his clever idea to practice transfiguration on his own. That had ended poorly when he accidentally turned the whole shelf of books into iron plates instead of a single book into a slate tile. The whole thing cracked and fell forward and although Merlin had managed to instinctively slow the descent, he had not escaped in time. He twisted his back and his ankle and was rather cut up when Freya found him. He was thankful she knew quite a bit about mending spells.

When the pain passed, Merlin sighed a puff of white. Hogwarts was better when it was quiet and untainted. He would hate to see the snow turned gray and mottled with footprints.

A cry drew his eyes upward. Archimedes swept low overhead and dropped a scroll into his lap. Merlin called thanks to his bird, who spun up to a tree in the distance and rested alongside three other school owls. Undoing the Pendragon seal, Merlin smiled at the sight of his name written in Arthur’s looping scrawl.

_Dear Merlin,_

_I don’t know what you’ve heard of parties but let me tell you, they are boring and long. Remember I told you that my father invited several neighboring kingdoms for a Dragon Fest about a month ago? Well, the festivities ended just yesterday! Events mainly consisted of tournaments, games, hunts, and feasts. The welcome feast was the only good part, but having heard of Hogwart’s dinners, mine must hardly compare. Leon, a fellow page, and I spent most of the farewell banquet joking about the guests. I think the only other person suffering through was Morgana. She was asked several times to dance and only got up once to do so because my father forced her. On top of that, the kings and knights kept comparing Princess Vivian and Princess Elena to Morgana the whole night, though in my opinion, there was no competition. Vivian is completely spoiled and has the worst laugh and Elena barely spoke a word because she ate nonstop. I think Morgana secretly enjoyed the attention, but pretended to hate it because my father caught her training with me and Leon the other day and forbade her from doing so again._

_I do admit the hunt itself was amazing. I got to ride with my father, his knights, and the other kings into the Darkling Woods. I was surprised at the amount of dragons there: five and all different. I thought dragons were more territorial because they are large creatures and need wider spaces, but I suppose the dragon we caught was small compared to the one we found in the Forest of Ascetir. That one was mottled brown and enormous, the size of five houses! We managed to loop restraints around it after nicking it with a lance, but it broke free and flew off._

_The dragon we did catch was black as night and wicked fast. I barely had a chance to blow my whistle when it shot from the ground and launched its claws at the nearest knight. Don’t worry! Bertram is alright, just a scratch, and now he has a story to tell! With all the men cornering it shooting arrows to its wings, the dragon fell. When they brought the dragon back, Gaius seemed uneasy. He told my father that if they were going to kill dragons for sport they ought to harvest some of the remains for scientific research and remedy-making purposes. Father laughed but agreed to it. He cut off the dragon’s head for himself and left the rest. Our knights took the scales and claws, leaving the smallest for Gaius, and the four kings instructed their knights to butcher the meat._

_We dined on dragon flesh that night. I would not recommend it. That was only the first week of hunting. It seemed my father and the other kings could not get enough! Afterward we started the tournament, which was exciting for Morgana because it was the closest to adventure she had gotten. Our knights competed with the neighboring knights in jousts, melee, and falconry. Godric ended up winning, of course. The only surprise was when he asked us pages to show off a little of our training. Remember that jousting move I was telling you about? Well, you’re not the only one who’s mastered a skill!_

_I’m glad that the guests will be leaving. It’s been so busy. I don’t know how anyone can socialize so much. Will I have to do that when I’m king? I think I would get a headache and turn everyone away from Camelot!_

Arthur _  
_By the way, you’ve been at school for seven months already. Are you famous yet?__

\--

Days turned to weeks and weeks to months. More than half a year had passed, but Merlin and Arthur continued to write.

Merlin detailed the mysteries of magic and described his fellow classmates, _“_ _It’s all in the wrist movement!_ _That’s what Ewan said. He thinks he’s the best wizard at Hogwarts. I probably would’ve believed him if he hadn’t promptly set fire to his robes.”_

Arthur complained about Morgana and formally introduced Leon, _“She’s been watching us train all the time. It’s annoying having her sit in the stands and leer at Leon and me. Leon that’s page I mentioned before. I actually met him before you left and since you’ve been gone I’ve been adventuring with him. He’s not as funny as you, but he’s a steadfast friend.”_

And at the end of every letter, Arthur would ask, _“By the way, are you famous yet?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have loved you for a thousand years / I'll love you for a thousand more


	7. -5, 1004, SUMMER

Summer holiday mended Merlin's backaches and purged his brain of nearly all the knowledge he had acquired during the year. When he arrived on the doorstep of their little hut with an enormous trunk full of school supplies and rumpled hair, Hunith smothered him with a hug and a big kiss.

“So tell me everything!” Hunith hurried inside and took down plates for breakfast.

Merlin dragged his stuff inside the door and promptly collapsed at the table, tucking his chin into folded arms. “There’s so much to tell, mum.”

“Well, start from the beginning then, and don’t you dare leave anything out!” She smiled over shoulder. Merlin grinned and nodded.

\--

Arthur flew down the steps. His right hand fisted the coin which had burned four days prior. Now the throbbing of his pulse drilled the numbers into his palm. Today, today, today!

As he reached the first floor of the castle, Arthur slowed. He needed to be discreet. Arthur slouched and descended the courtyard steps to the lower circle at a leisurely gait. No one stopped him. He wove through the market, wondering what Merlin would say when he saw him. In his letters, Merlin described the spells he had learnt, but it would be much more amazing to witness his powers in person. Arthur decided he would ask his friend to do the levitation spell first.

When he reached the furthest edge of the tented stands, Arthur turned and glanced behind him just in case he had missed the wizard.

“Arthur!”

Arthur grinned, searching the crowd only to settle on Leon forcing his way through. The boy waved and shouted, “Wait!”

Arthur sighed and folded his arms. He had been hoping for a Leon-free day, not that his fellow page wasn’t good company. He was just a little slow at picking up on Arthur’s sarcasm.

Leon stumbled to a halt in front of Arthur and bent over.

Arthur tried to stay his patience, but it was pointless. “What now?”

“Your father sent a messenger to tell the stable hand to tell me to tell you that you ought not leave Camelot unattended,” Leon explained.

Arthur cocked an eyebrow. “So he sent you to…attend me?”

“Oh no.” Leon’s chuckles interrupted his steadying breaths. He stood straighter. “He’s sending some guards now.”

“What!” Arthur cried, just as he caught a glimpse of crimson whip around the corner. He took off running, calling for Leon to follow. Arthur didn’t check behind him until they passed into the sanctity of the river edge. Leon’s big hair was a complete mess and he was breathing harder than a tournament horse but he was there.

“Why—are—we—running—Arthur?” Leon gasped.

“Arthur?”

Arthur grinned as a familiar figure dropped from the leafy canopy. Merlin laughed and threw his arms around Arthur in a hug that was returned with equal enthusiasm, but their reunion was cut short by the oncoming calls.

“Prince Arthur!”

“Quick!” Arthur shooed Merlin back. Merlin blinked, neck and head popped back like a stoat. He had no idea what was going on but followed Arthur’s order nonetheless. He scrambled up the tree. Arthur was about to suggest Leon go next when the page created a stool with his bent knee and hands.

“You first, Arthur. Go!” He didn’t need telling twice. Arthur stepped into Leon’s palm and reached for Merlin’s outstretched hand. His other hand snagged a branch which he used to hoist himself the rest of the way.

“Leon!” Arthur hissed, but the calls were on top of them.

“There’s no time,” Merlin snapped. He threw out his hand, fingers spread wide at the boy below them. “Don’t move and don’t speak!”

Leon froze.

Merlin’s eyes flared. “ _Ascúfan busies drýum!_ ” His words escaped just as the knights crested the peak of the slope. Frowning, they descended the muddy bank with care. Leon blinked, straining not to move as a guard passed right in front of him.

Arthur caught Merlin’s frightened gaze. They were breathing louder than the rustle of leaves around them. He clapped a hand over his mouth and Merlin mimicked him. They sat mutely in the branches. Arthur watched, stunned as the man eyed the rippling water suspiciously and turned in a circle. Leon was barely a foot away! Then, his eyes fogged over and he turned back up the hill.

“Keep searching!” the knight barked to his comrade waiting at the top. They departed into the fields and the shouts trickled away.

Merlin peeked through the canopy and sighed, “They’re gone.”

Arthur looked down at Leon, whose legs had given out. The page rested between two large tree roots with his head tipped upward. Leon’s gaze shifted between the two above him. Merlin glanced at Leon, then to Arthur.

All three started laughing.

Merlin and Arthur nearly fell out of the tree, leaning precariously toward one another. Leon grinned like an idiot and buried his face in his hands. When they had calmed enough to be sensible, Merlin and Arthur climbed down and sat.

“What did you do? How did you do it?” Arthur asked.

“Those knights didn’t even see me! Did you turn me invisible?” Leon leaned forward.

Merlin, flustered at having to explain magic to someone he had never met before, started slowly. “In a way. There’s a spell that specifically wards away Muggles—non magical folk. It causes them to forget where they're going or even lose interest in where they are searching. They just think nothing's there.”

“That’s amazing!” Arthur and Leon chorused.

Merlin laughed hesitantly. “I’m supposed to practice my magic outside of school but I didn’t think I’d be using it _this_ soon.”

“Well it’s a good thing you did,” Leon said.

“Agreed!” Arthur stood and waved them on. “Come on! I know exactly what we’re going to do today!”

Merlin and Leon shared a look, smiled empathetically and stood up to follow.

\--

“It smells horrible,” Merlin masked his nose with the back of his hand.

“Agreed.” Leon said.

“Stop being babies.” Arthur hopped from rock to rock. “It’s just a cave.”

“A really disgusting one.”

Leon scaled the wall with squinted eyes. The full height was three times the height of the opening. At the top, hefty pines blocked great portions of sunlight so that every time the wind blew the dry path seemed to move like a riverbed. Moss wreathed the entrance roof and old roots dangled like a wet curtain.

The three had traveled nearly an hour to get there. Their trek had taken them along the river to the same pool Arthur and Merlin had swum in the year before, around the hills that guarded the sanctuary and through a clearing. They wove through a crop of forest away from the main road and had traced the edge of a long lake before finding a series of geometric rock formations leading to their destination.

“Are you two coming or not?” Arthur asked. His eyebrows arched.

“How are we going to see anything in there?” Leon’s feet fought the uneven stones.

Merlin moaned, rolling his shoulders back and tipping his head skyward. Of course. He pursed his lips and withdrew an oak rod from inside his shirt. “You are so lucky I brought this with me." Arthur bit his lower lip in a grin, raised his eyebrows and bobbed his head.

The three passed under the dripping roots into the coolness of the cave. In the receding sunlight, Merlin lifted his wand to head height. With a whipping gesture Merlin conjured a ball of unnatural white light. Leon gasped behind him. The sphere hovered in front of them and grew larger until it illuminated most of their immediate surroundings. Arthur smacked a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and led the way. Leon followed behind them.

“Why exactly are we here?” Merlin flitted his wand to direct the light upward as they climbed a muddy slope.

Arthur crouched low to the ground. He stiffened his fingers into claws and pitched his voice as deep as he could. “A dragon!”

Leon tripped on his own feet. The light flickered out for a second.

“You two aren’t scared, are you?” Arthur asked. He didn’t wait for Merlin’s magic to illuminate the path ahead. His feet took two clods of dirt and stone and pushed them behind him.

“Of course not,” Leon said. “Nothing we haven’t done before.” He folded his arms across his chest, thought better of it, and dropped his arms. He squinted at Merlin who waved helplessly.

They continued for at least an hour. In small pockets of natural light, Merlin was permitted to rest. Lowering his wand hand was a relief. Arthur would poke around a bit, showing Leon what looked like tracks and claw marks. Merlin would sit on a wet stone with his legs wobbling, knees knocking together. The distant _pip pip_ of water acted as a guide. In the semi-dark, the rhythm could have been the remnants of a thunderstorm, dulled by the resounding hollow of the cavern.

The three shuffled for another quarter of an hour when at last there was a true sign. A deep rumble echoed into Merlin’s heart. The stale air flooded his lungs and formed a bubble in his throat which threatened to explode.

“Did you hear that?” Leon asked. He twisted his neck to see around Arthur.

“Yeah, I heard it,” Arthur whispered. He thrust his head to the side and his feet carried him off.

Merlin hesitated, squirming in his boots. He rocked back and forth on the muddied soles. “Why are we following the scary noise?”

When he received no response, he dashed to catch up. The light bounced up and down in front of his wand. He puffed up the incline, using his free hand for leverage and looked up just in time to see Arthur’s arm swing back to catch him in the ribs. The magic light sputtered out. He nearly dropped his wand, but instinctively clenched his fist.

“Ow! What was that f-”

Arthur clapped a hand over Merlin’s mouth and pointed where Leon lay on his stomach at the edge of the ridge. A natural wall of stalagmites formed a makeshift screen so that Leon was forced to prop his chest up into a prow position using his elbows. They stared down into the clearing far below.

A pearly white dragon rested sound asleep on a small peninsula, its head tucked beneath one bat-like wing, its tail curled protectively around its body which echoed the curve of the water’s edge surrounding it. The bulk of its body was cradled by the brace of its ribs, expanding and contracting on the nest of leaves, moss, and bones. With every breath, a single spike on its broad back rocked downward into the water just enough to send rings across the surface. Vines and roots overhead screened sunlight which cast a sickly dappled glow on the creature.

Only when he was certain that Merlin would not scream did Arthur remove his hand. The two lowered themselves onto their stomachs beside Leon, Arthur in the middle. From their position at the lip of the crest, they had a broad view of the space and their prey.

“You honestly think approaching a sleeping dragon is a good idea?” Merlin whispered, ducking his chin into the wet dirt. Leon opened his mouth but only fixed his eyes on Arthur.

“Of course not. We don’t have any weapons with us,” Arthur said. He thumped Merlin on the back, “but we do have magic!”

Merlin shook his head. “No way am I going down there. What do you expect me to do? Slay the thing?”

“Don’t be an idiot. We just need something to prove we’ve—wait, there!”

The dragon shifted in its sleep, wings lowering to expose a glossy egg in one curled claw. Without another word, Arthur began the descent. He slid down the wet cliff, grabbing for roots and dry rocks when he fell too quickly. Leon obediently followed. Merlin tucked his wand in his shirt and brought up the rear.

They reached the water’s edge and stopped. Arthur beckoned Merlin forward. “Want to show me that Hover Charm?” He pointed at the egg.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Leon whispered. He shifted his gaze from the dragon to Merlin. “Not that I doubt your abilities, but it’s a big dragon.”

“Don’t worry. I have a back-up plan,” said Arthur. He took Merlin’s hand and marched toward the opening of the peninsula where another collection or stalagmites formed a makeshift scouting post. They hid behind these, now fifteen yards from the sleeping beast. Its snores masked their voices.

“What’s the back-up plan?” Leon asked, sticking his head between the two.

“We run.” Arthur nudged Merlin. “Come on, oh great wizard!”

Merlin pursed his lips and lifted his wand. Swish. Flick. “ _Aræman!_ ”

Nothing happened. That was unusual. Merlin tried again. The egg did not shift.

“Maybe try summoning it or something?” Leon suggested.

Merlin nodded. “ _Onbregdan!_ ” Still nothing. “I don’t know what’s wrong. My magic…I think it’s-”

But exactly what Merlin’s theory was, Leon and Arthur did not hear. A deafening cry ricocheted off the cavern walls and ceiling, causing rocks to pelt downward. Arthur and Leon each threw an arm around Merlin and dragged him under their bodies. Merlin peered through the arms linked around him and made out a thread of sunlight piping the silhouette of the dragon. The beast raised itself onto its hind legs and unfolded its wings. Merlin gaped at the sheer size. It shrieked again, but shot no flames. Its head pivoted, nostrils flaring as it sniffed.

“It’s blind,” Leon whispered. His voice erupted in Merlin’s ear.

The dragon fell onto all fours and the ground quaked. It stomped closer until its snout hovered just above them. The beast could taste them. Each held his breath. Merlin clutched his wand. Without warning, the dragon roared and Arthur yelped, covering his ears. A split second later, his eyes widened, but it was too late. The beast bore down, swiping the rocks with the side of its face. The force sent the boys flying until they hit a wall. Merlin tried to stand but the world spun and a voice inside his head made it impossible to hear anything.

_Filthy human children. Despicable, blood-thirsty thieves! Drown them in the water. No, eat them._

“ _No! Please don’t!_ ” Merlin cried. He tripped forward onto his stomach. The wind knocked out of him once more. There was no energy left in him to rise, let alone run. He prayed that Arthur and Leon had managed to escape.

_Curious. A young wizard. Unexpected. Yes. That would explain it._

A woman’s voice. Was it his mother? Merlin’s eyes itched. He pinched them shut. Warmth on his back, his mother drawing a blanket over his shoulders. No, this warmth was fleeting. His hair ruffled. Odd. Arthur? Where was Arthur…

 _Explain yourself._ That voice again. Merlin’s head pounded. He felt his body being rolled onto its side. _Wake up._ Annoyingly persistent. Merlin groaned, opening one eye. The dragon’s snout came into focus, warm breath washed over Merlin’s face. He cried out, trying to scuttle back.

“MERLIN!” Arthur and Leon started pelting fallen rocks at the snapping dragon.

_Explain yourself before I eat your friends!_

“Wait stop!” Merlin flailed at the boys. They froze.

_Why did you come here? Why do you want my egg?_

“ _I’m really sorry. We didn’t mean to-I just wanted to test my magic. I wasn’t going to hurt the egg. It was a foolish game._ ”

The dragon pressed its nostrils to Merlin’s cheek and inhaled. _You speak half-truths. Be completely honest or I will-_

“ _Alright! My friend heard there was a dragon in this cave so we searched and found you. He wanted me to steal the egg using my magic because he didn’t…He wanted proof._ ”

The dragon laughed. _Proof of his bravery no doubt? Coercing his friend into thievery? It seems he is the foolish one._

Merlin bowed his head.

_I will let you live, but heed my warning: others may not be so forgiving, be careful who you befriend, trust your instincts and your magic will not fail you, and above all, beware those who seek the power to rule over others._

Merlin's neck tingled but he did not dare lift his head.

_Take this as a reminder._

The dragon bowed its mouth and unlocked its bite. A single scale the size of Merlin’s hand fell. He caught it clumsily and thanked the beast as it retreated. Leon and Arthur stood stunned. Merlin stared at his feet and slowly marched away. When they reached the mouth of the cave, Arthur whooped. Leon's eyebrows pulled together to form a bump between them. He looked from Arthur to Merlin.

“Whatever you did back there, it worked!” Arthur grinned.

“What do you mean?”

“You spoke to the dragon in a different language,” said Leon.

“I _what?_ ” Merlin looked to Arthur for some kind of denial, but he nodded. “How could I have spoken a different language? I didn’t even realize…”

“What does it matter? Just add that to your list of powers!” Arthur nabbed the scale out of Merlin’s loose grip and turned it over. “How _did_ you make it give you the scale, oh Dragon Tamer?”

Merlin clenched his fists. “I didn’t _make_ it do anything. The dragon said you were a prat for making me steal and that I should be careful who I befriend. The only reason we’re alive is because it _let_ us live.”

Merlin took the scale back and sunk onto a rock, ducking his head between his knees. Leon crouched and set a hand on Merlin's shoulder. “I’m sorry, Merlin."

Merlin nodded. After a moment, Arthur inhaled, "I shouldn’t have forced your magic like that.”

Leon coughed. Arthur widened his eyes at Leon, shook his head and shrugged. Leon tipped his head sideways at Merlin. Arthur added, “You should keep the scale too. You were the brave one.”

Merlin looked up. Leon said, “You earned it, Merlin. That was really amazing magic. You spoke to a _dragon_!”

Merlin turned the scale over in his hand and watched rainbows ripple across the white surface. “I have no idea how I did it.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to try it again anytime soon,” Leon offered.

“Never again," Merlin stood up.

Arthur smiled, so Merlin smacked him upset the head. Leon had to cover his face and look away as Arthur howled obscenities at the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time stands still


	8. -5, 1004 (YEAR 2)

**FALL**

No second year had as much work as Merlin, sponsored or not. Every evening he slaved in the common room well past midnight. Whereas many of his classmates had taken to inventing games and playing sports on the grounds, Merlin had chained himself at the start of the term to an ever growing mountain of books. Admittedly, his studies paid off. His powers were unmatched in all classes, save potions.

In potions Morgause reigned supreme. During class, she took ingredients from others. No one ever argued. Merlin answered all the questions, but only because Morgause allowed him. The only time anyone else spoke was when Master Salazar addressed them directly. When Salazar retreated to his desk, Morgause would sink her head to the rim of her cauldron, hunched and threatening. Her eyes puckered and wrinkled toward Merlin, daring him to best her. Merlin removed himself from her sightline whenever possible. Morgause was trouble in every form and he had enough attention already.

Merlin exhaled. His rear was sore from the chair and his forearms were creased from the study table where he had spent the last four hours thumbing through _Moderate Elemental Magic Made Easy_.

_. . . The key to all magic is balance. This is the ultimate truth of the natural world from which we draw our powers. When harnessed and applied appropriately, elemental magic is a great tool and may be the best resource for the stranded witch or wizard. . ._

As his eyes followed each sentence, Merlin’s knuckles rippled around his coin. He had become so used to the sensation, that he often rubbed his fingers during a test, only to clench his fist and then bite his quill instead.

He reached to turn the page when quick fingers snatched the coin. Merlin was on his feet before he decided to stand. His brain caught up when he leveled with Morgause.

“Give it back,” Merlin stretched out a hand.

“Seems a rather expensive toy for a peasant,” Morgause simpered, holding the money to the light. She squinted, searching the face for something.

“It’s from my father,” Merlin said. He weighed his hand. “Now give it back, please.”

Morgause folded the coin into her palm and pivoted, her eyes now on Merlin. Goosebumps prickled down his spine. She said, “You’re lying, but not completely.”

“Fine, if you really want to know my mum gave it to me. She said it belonged to my father. He’s dead. So give. It. Back.”

Morgause’s slotted eyes widened ever so slightly. She turned to depart. Merlin took a step foward.

Morgause cried out and dropped the coin. It made a dull thud on the rug. She turned back slowly and Merlin could almost feel the heat of her anger. He looked down at red welt blossoming on her palm. He hadn't meant to do magic. He hadn't even realized.

Morgause straightened and drew her wand. Merlin stepped back. On the _Never Do Unless You Want to be Expelled from Hogwarts List_ was definitely “duel with Morgause.” He didn’t even know how to-

A purple streak shot from her wand aimed for his face. He ducked, throwing a hand forward instinctively. Morgause flew backward, carried off the ground by an invisible pulley that sent her reeling upward into the forest of Slytherin banners and ornate chandeliers. Before she hit them, Morgause leveled herself with a quick incantation and flick of her wand toward the ground. Her feet touched the stone and two torches in their metal brocades fell off the wall toward Merlin. Merlin staggered on the rug and fell backward. He raised his arms to cover his face and the projectiles clattered a safe distance to either side of him.

Growling, the witch tried once more, rolling Merlin into the heavy rug with a charm. This time Merlin was ready. Eyes ringed gold, his spell released him from his wrapping and simultaneously tripped Morgause where she stood. Knocked to her knee, Morgause flared her lips into a snarl. A line of sweat slid down the incline of her nose. Her stringy blonde hair draped her shoulders like a moth-eaten velvet curtain. Her shoulder blades protruded through the school robes like nubs of broken black wings.

Merlin tried to swallow but his throat was dry. The tension was overpowering. Every nerve vibrated, bursting to react. He licked his lips.

With a shriek, Morgause threw herself up. Merlin twisted his wrist. A flash of white light forced them both back as an invisible bubble erupted between them.

“Enough.” Salazar's hard tone pierced the silence. Instantly both lowered their heads. Morgause lifted her chin from her bow but Merlin remained bent at the waist. In his peripheral he saw a congregation of students gathered in the stairwells. None dared breach the imaginary boundaries of the common room floor. How long had they been there?

With a wave, Salazar’s Shield Charm melted.

“I expect my students to act with decorum. There is never dueling in our dormitories.”

“Yes, sir.” Merlin straightened.

Salazar swept between them, nearly brushing the forgotten coin under his robes. Merlin's breath caught and he glanced downward. Salazar stopped. He tipped his head ever so slightly as Merlin shut his mouth. Salazar snapped his fingers and the coin shot into his hand. Merlin’s heart sank. Then-

“Morgause, Merlin, with me.”

They followed in his silent wake. The icy corridor heightened the uncomfortable itch of perspiration trickling down Merlin’s neck. He was going to be expelled. He was going to have to live the life of a stunted sorcerer in Ealdor. He would have to teach himself. What would Freya think when he told her he was leaving Hogwarts forever? How would his _mother_ react? She would say nothing, fold her hands over her apron and tend the garden.

Salazar turned into his office. Merlin and Morgause entered, obediently halting at the edge of a sculpted desk. Their master stepped around it and sunk into a charcoal armchair. Behind him, shadow concealed the depth of the room. Merlin focused on each furniture piece. He thought the high-back chair was the oddest piece in the room. The silver beading and square outline gave an awkwardly clean look compared to the elaborately curved tables laden with crystal tools and baubles, granite countertops and glass-plated cabinets. The candlelight behind them illuminated a wall of shelves laden with curious pots, jars, and phials of varying colour. Merlin tried not to look at the preserved creatures and fermenting potions, fearful that one of the pickling lizards would blink.

Salazar nodded for them to sit.

“Show me your palm, Morgause.”

With his practiced hand, Salazar made quick work of the sting. He summoned a bottle filled to the brim with emerald liquid, unstoppered it and released a few drops. A _tchssss_ followed and Merlin noted the tell-tale foaming of essence of Dittany around the edges of the wound. The skin lightened and looked less raw. Salazar then drew his wand and pointed at the center of the burn. A thin stream of light fell from the tip and swirled into a circle. It hovered above Morgause’s palm, pulsing before uncurling into her skin. When the light disappeared the wound was completely gone.

Morgause thanked Salazar and he dismissed her. With a stiff bow, she left.

Why hadn’t Salazar kept both of them for interrogation or punishment? Was Morgause going to walk away with nothing more than a scolding while Merlin took all the blame? Did Salazar assume he had instigated the fight? No doubt he would be the first student to ever be expelled from Hogwarts. Merlin fidgeted in his seat, wringing his hands. He had to make a case. Telling the truth might work. Arthur would-

“Why did you decide to attend Hogwarts?” Salazar asked

Well he hadn't expected that...

The professor tried again, “Merlin, do you know _why_ you were placed in my house?”

Merlin shook his head.

“You are a Slytherin because you are exceptionally talented, disciplined, clever, and resourceful. You have the capacity for greatness, for honour, for glory. Above all else you have ambition and determination.”

Merlin flushed. 

“Your magic is beyond any I have witnessed because you were not only born with the capability to conduct but also the inherent understanding of how magic relates to the human body and the world," Salazar said, "Did you know that magic derives from the lines of energy that stretch across the earth?”

Merlin shook his head again.

“Past the age of eleven very few students retain the ability to wield magic without a wand, because they lose their inborn connection to the earth’s energy. This is why wizards use wands. Magical creatures have the same direct connection with the earth’s energy. They provide the cores so that we may conduct that same energy as adults, but you do not need a wand. Your body bridges this connection. You regularly conduct magic with your hands.”

Master Salazar reached across the desk and took Merlin’s wrists. He turned Merlin's palms upward. “Hands,” he continued, “are perhaps the strongest appendages of the human body. They are controlled by both mind and heart.”

Salazar traced the lines of Merlin’s palms. Thoughts crossed his master’s face, but Merlin failed to interpret them.

“I expect great things from you, Merlin,” Salazar concluded. He let go. “You have much to learn, but you will do well. Are you up to the challenge?”

Merlin unstuck his throat. “Yes, sir.”

“Then additional lessons are in order. You are already practicing fourth level magic. We will study privately two times a week effective immediately. Meet here after supper tomorrow. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Very good. Now I think you need sleep.”

Merlin stood. He couldn’t believe his good fortune! No punishment _and_ additional lessons. He was nearly out the door when Master Salazar called after him. Merlin pivoted in the door frame. “Yes sir?”

Salazar reached into his pocket and withdrew Merlin’s coin. He rubbed the surface and gave it no more than a glance before tossing it. Merlin fumbled to catch it, managed not to drop it, and stowed the coin in his pocket. He looked up to find Salazar studying him. Merlin offered a thankful grin. But something about Salazar’s gaze made him feel as if the great wizard was seeing behind his physical features. Salazar’s lips tightened into a smile. “I know you will not disappoint me.”

Merlin nodded and left before any words could betray him.

\--

The only possible conclusion was sorcery! Merlin stared down at his dinner plate. It had been overflowing with stew, roasted vegetables, and rolls not a minute ago. Now it was scraped clean.

“Merlin?” Freya set her fork down. She reached across the table and brushed the dips of his knuckles with her fingertips. “You’re going to do fine.”

He answered by downing his entire goblet of cider. At lunch he had described the previous night’s events. Freya had only smiled and told him that it was an obvious decision on Salazar’s part, that Merlin was of course the star pupil and that he should be treated as such. Embarrassed, Merlin had ducked his head into his plate of mashed potatoes. With his dinner consumed, he had no such luck this time.

“But what if I mess up? He’ll change his mind! I’m sure of it.,” Merlin whined.

Freya frowned. “You’re supposed to mess up.”

That wasn’t very reassuring.

She nodded toward the door. “You’d better go. If you’re late…”

Merlin swallowed and detached himself from the table. He waved goodnight, slipped out of the Great Hall and down the dungeon steps. When he reached Salazar’s door he found it slightly ajar. A discussion leaked out. Merlin waited with his hand half-heartedly raised to knock and listened.

“His skill is beyond any I have witnessed, Godric. A Protean Charm! He could be a fourth year, of that I am certain. He will excel at anything he is given, even this.” Salazar gestured but Merlin could not see more than a the shadow slide over a sliver of Godric’s arm.

“You may be right about skill, Salazar, but do you not think it a bit…premature for private lessons? So many of our students show promise, yet the facts remain. They are but children. What makes you think Merlin-“ Merlin inhaled. “-is mentally prepared for working beyond his years, let alone with powerful Druid artifacts?”

“Ask him yourself.”

Merlin froze, his fist still held in a knocking motion as the door swung open of its own accord. Salazar was seated behind his desk with his elbows resting on the surface. Most of his mouth was hidden behind his steepled fingertips but Merlin could make out the distinct curl of a smirk peeking through. Godric was leaning casually against the ancient potions work table, arms crossed with a mild look of surprise etched across his eyebrows.

Merlin snapped his arms down. He bowed awkwardly and sputtered, “I am sorry to interrupt, Master Salazar, Sir Godric…”

“Not at all. Godric and I were just discussing the course outline for your private lessons. Are you staying, Godric?” Salazar offered with a smile. The air between them changed. Godric countered. “Ten gold pieces on Occlumency by Mid-Winter.”

“Done,” said Salazar. Godric cocked his eyebrows and grinned as if he’d won the bet already. With a salute, the knight departed, leaving Merlin and his master alone.

Surely Salazar should re-consider. Merlin would lose that bet. But he had to ask, “Sir, what is Occlumency?”

“Occlumency is the art of fortifying one’s mind against intruders. It goes hand-in-hand with Legilimency, which is the ability to read minds and emotions. An accomplished wizard trains himself in Occlumency to protect against Legilimency, although there are several ways of withdrawing information. Non-magical people tend to use physical torture. Cruder, more barbaric witches and wizards divine from the entrails of animals and humans.”

Merlin shuddered.

“If you discipline your mind to throw your opponent out or to create a safe-hold within, you can protect valuable information and your mental integrity, but we won’t be learning that today. Occlumency is a skill developed over time. To illustrate the importance of mastering it, I will show you this.”

Salazar stepped out from behind his desk and walked past Merlin. From the largest glass cabinet he removed a bowl made of rose crystal. Salazar handed the bowl to him by the thin rim. Eyes wide, Merlin took it without question. The bowl was light, but he maintained a firm grip. A hazy liquid, thinner than water, swirled inside. Perhaps a special potion his master had brewed.

“This is called a Pensieve,” Salazar explained, bringing forward a stone pedestal with the help of his wand. The pedestal reached Merlin’s chest. Scrolls of runes decorated its four sides. Salazar nodded and Merlin deposited the bowl into the circular recess at the top. “The Druids mine scrying crystals found in a special cavern near the Valley of the Fallen Kings to create Pensieves. Few exist in all of Albion and I am fortunate to own one.”

Only a few in _all of Albion_ and he had _held_ one!

Salazar waved his wand and another cabinet opened to reveal an organized tray of glass phials. With a flick, they floated over and hovered beside him. He removed a single tube before waving away the rest.

Merlin watched as Salazar uncorked the bottle and poured the liquid into the Pensieve. It swirled like black ink but rather than dispersing, the trail retained its colour in the cloudy liquid. Salazar smiled at Merlin’s open mouth and continued, “The Pensieve is used to review harvested memories. Each contains valuable and sometimes sensitive information in the case of Prophecies, which can alter our world.”

Merlin swallowed. Questions instantly formed. “Master, can you review memories that are not your own? How do you extract memories? Do the extracted memories last forever? Is there a spell on the containers to hold them properly?”

Salazar laughed. Merlin hadn’t heard his master laugh since the feast last year.

“Yes. With a wand. Yes. Surprisingly, no.”

Merlin's attempt to remember the order of his questions amused Salazar. He withdrew his wand and dipped the tip into the basin. The black memory curled around the wood, pulled like a long strand of wet hair. He removed the wand and continued, “Shall we review this memory together?”

Licking his lips, Merlin nodded. He felt his master set a hand on his shoulder.

“Simply dip your head into the water and continue to breathe evenly.”

Merlin did as instructed. He waited for the shock of cool wetness on his face but was surprised to find that the liquid was warm. In fact, it felt like air, which made it easy to breathe. Merlin soon lost his footing and fell headlong into a world of clouds.

He landed feet first on a familiar stretch of grass surrounding the northern edge of the Black Lake. Salazar appeared behind him. They were in a valley surrounded by an arc of mountains. To the west, a dense forest stopped at the edge of a sloping lawn. The sunrise had not yet pierced the treetops. Salazar pointed to a short plateau and the two climbed. Merlin saw the backs of four people standing on the cusp, staring at the place where Hogwarts should be.

“I suppose this will suffice.” Merlin recognized his master’s voice as they approached. A younger Salazar had his arms crossed and wore a crooked smile.

“I think it’s perfect!” The woman beside him piped up. Merlin recognized Madame Helga wearing the same golden robes he had seen her don at last year’s end of school feast which meant she hadn’t grown since then. Despite the pointed bonnet on her head, Helga’s hair flapped all over her puffy face in the wind.

“Of course it’s perfect. _I_ found it,” Godric puffed out his chainmail chest. A shadow of a beard graced his chin. Beside him, Mistress Rowena coughed. “Fine. Rowena helped.”

“Shall we?” asked Salazar. They drew their wands and set to work. The magic was smooth and magnificent to behold, as if they’d practiced this dance many times. With a sweep of Helga’s wand, the pine trees wrapping the base of the hill cleared. They hung uprooted in the air and spun rapidly. She dropped her wrist. A fleet of transfigured chairs and desks fell. Merlin heard a call and saw Rowena and Godric working together to bring down boulders on the other side of the hill. In seconds, the stones transformed into rectangular blocks, the foundation of Hogwarts’ dungeons and first floor. Young Salazar chipped away at a separate corner and Merlin trotted forward to get a better view. The wizard was constructing the north tower where, in Merlin’s time, the Owlery resided.

“This is amazing, Master!” said Merlin. He wondered if Salazar had shown any other student the memory and how many times he had relieved it himself. When memories were collected, did they disappear from one’s mind? He’d have to ask later. Right now there was too much action to hold Merlin’s concentration.

“It certainly is a sight to behold,” Salazar breathed.

Together the school took shape: the dock to the lake, staggered windows interrupted by an open courtyard, grand front doors, staircases, flying buttresses, gargoyles and Hogwart’s characteristic turrets. Like a dream, time had passed quickly. Merlin wondered if this was part of the Pensieve’s magic or if memories simply were not viewed in real time. A whole day had passed. Merlin realized the sun had already hit the horizon, casting a pink glow over the entrance of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The four founders rejoined at the edge of the Black Lake.

“It’s wonderful!” Helga gushed, dancing on the spot.

Rowena frowned. “I hope the changing floor plan Filius and I developed will work.”

“Let’s go inside and see!” Godric marched up the wide staircase toward the great doors but stopped halfway when he realized Salazar remained at the foot, staring at their creation. “What is it?”

Salazar smiled. “The four of us have prepared for years to make this happen. Our school will be the best school of magic. This castle is a testament. I am proud to work alongside you three.”

“Here, here!” said Helga.

Rowena smiled. “We have a long way to go yet.”

Godric clopped down the steps and threw an arm around Salazar. “I didn’t know you could be so sentimental!”

Salazar tried to wrestle out of his friend’s grip. “Just wait until the students arrive! I’ll have a whole army of Slytherins to fight you off. Sentimental…”

“You’ll be the strictest of us all, no doubt,” Rowena smirked.

“I can’t wait!” said Helga. “All the young witches and wizards we’ve seen…They’ll finally have somewhere to call home.”

“Well, only the bravest.” Godric released Salazar.

“The cleverest,” said Rowena.

“No, the most ambitious,” said Salazar.

“You three are always so picky.” Helga folded her arms. It was a friendly argument that continued all the way up the steps. Merlin made to follow but-

“Come, Merlin. This memory is spent.” Salazar gripped his shoulder and steered him away. The scenery instantly faded around them, disintegrating at the seams. Colours drained until only whiteness surrounded the pair. Merlin closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were once again standing in the dim office. The surface of the basin flickered. Salazar removed the memory with his wand and tapped it back into the phial. “I want you to think on what you have learned tonight. How to use the Pensieve and its value to Wizard kind. Were the Druids clever to create such an artifact and what responsibility do we have in using it? What is the importance of the relationship between the Pensieve, Occlumency, and Legilimency? You will write two scrolls on these topics to give me in three days time. That will be all for this evening.”

“Yes, sir.”

Merlin shuffled to the door and gripped the handle. He paused and looked back at his master clearing away the pedestal. For a moment he saw the shadow of that man from ten years ago illuminated by the rippling Pensieve, the youthful eyes trained on Hogwarts castle rising before him. He had been bursting with excitement and promise. Merlin repeated the memory behind his eyes. He wanted to keep it.

He bade his mentor goodnight and closed the door.

\--

Merlin exited the boy’s dormitory the following morning to find his fellow Slytherins crowded around a posting on the common room notice board. Edging closer, he listened to the crowd.

“Godric’s started a men’s dueling club! I bet-”

“Think anybody’s going to-”

“-course all of his house will be there, but Hufflepuffs are too weak to fight. The other day-”

“Did you know Godric’s one of the best duelists of-”

Merlin left the throng and headed for the Great Hall. A dueling club. What was that about? Friendly magical fighting? Fat chance! There was nothing friendly about combat. He had learned that much from Morgause. Still, it would be fascinating to see a real wizard duel. When he reached the long tables for breakfast, Merlin found that he hadn’t escaped the topic. Everyone seemed to be deciding what to do. The school had other clubs, but this one was by far the most interesting. Merlin decided that he would check it out. No harm in learning more defensive spellwork. Maybe he could even convince Freya to join.

\--

That evening the tables of the Great Hall rested against the walls. Students meandered in nervous clumps. Several older Slytherins severed their conversation as they passed Merlin, but picked up their whispers before they were out of earshot. _Morgause_ and _Prince_ trailed behind them and Merlin reached into his pocket to finger the coin.

“Hi.” Freya appeared and Merlin hugged her just as Godric Gryffindor strode in.

“Good evening, students!” roared Godric.

“Good evening, Sir!”

Merlin turned Freya around and then stood beside her. Students backed away from the center of the room, forming a wall of robes. Merlin and Freya were nearly forced to the edge of a table. They could hardly see through the fence of taller students.

“Tonight is our first dueling club meeting. Our topic will be etiquette and stance. Could I have a volunteer please?”

Merlin watched a forest of hands shoot up. He caught a glimpse of Godric in his full knightly attire. Freya bobbed beside him trying to see. Luckily two students directly in front of them seemed to think etiquette and stance were not interesting enough topics and left. Merlin seized Freya’s arm and stepped into the gap.

Godric picked a third year Hufflepuff who joined him in the center to a light round of applause. “What’s your name, son?”

“Tristram, sir.”

“Very good, Tristram. Stand here. Now, dueling is a gentleman’s sport, but it can be deadly,” Godric explained. Merlin looked around and noticed the lack of girls. He had totally forgotten! One of the students from the common room that morning said it was a _men’s_ dueling club. He turned to apologize but Freya didn’t seem to mind. She smiled at Merlin. “The rules are simple. Three rounds. Points given on the basis of disarming, stunning, or jinx contact. No physical contact. Remember, dueling is a show of skill and discipline. Precautions are taken but there are always injuries. In a formal duel, there are two duelists and two Seconds. The Second replaces his duelist if he should become incapacitated.”

The students shifted.

Godric smiled. “No need to worry. These are practice sessions. Now, the first step is to observe proper etiquette. Within our traditions we preserve alliances and peace. Shake hands.” He shook Tristram’s hand firmly. Then he withdrew his wand and nodded. Tristram did the same. “Turn and walk ten paces. Keep both arms at your sides with your wand pointed down. By doing so you prove your honesty.” When both reached opposite ends of the student oval, they turned around to face one another.

“Bow at the waist.” Tristram and Godric bowed to one another, the former wobbled, but stayed standing. When they straightened, Godric drew his wand to his face. Tristram mirrored. “This is the guard position. As soon as you move from this position, the duel begins.”

Tristram swallowed. Godric looked serious for a moment, but a smile soon broke his face and he laughed. The Gryffindors joined in. Tristram relaxed. When the laughter lessened, Godric walked to Tristram. “A wizard’s best asset is his footwork. Plant firmly and anchor yourself. Your magic will be able to take the force of your opponent’s spell but your body will not. If you set your feet in this position-”-his foot pushed Tristram’s legs closer together-“-you leave yourself susceptible.”

With a tap on the back, the boy’s arms pin-wheeled. He started falling forward but Godric caught him. He moved Tristram’s feet once more into a wider alignment and turned his shoulders. “Now like this, it is much harder to strike, magic or not. Range has a great deal to do with dueling. The stronger the spell, the harder it is to maintain. Hold fast your wand. Many duels have been lost by only disarming!”

This sent the students buzzing again. Godric’s instructions carried above them. “Split into pairs! Practice this etiquette and stance. It will be a little tight but we’ll manage.”

Students shuffled into the open demonstration space. Tristram found a new partner and Godric began walking about the room. Merlin looked at Freya, who shrugged.

“I just don’t want you to get in trouble,” said Merlin.

Freya waved it off and smiled. “Come on then. Show me your dueling stance.”

The two shook hands, turned and walked five paces, then spun around. They bowed deeply to one another. Merlin looked up and his eyes accidentally met Godric’s over Freya’s shoulder. The professor strode over and looked from Merlin to Freya. Before he could object, Freya said, “Merlin doesn’t have a partner, sir. I came to watch, but since he had no one I thought I could practice with him.”

Godric gave the room a sweep and frowned. There were several groups of three practicing in turns. He looked back at Merlin who stared at the floor.

“You can partner with me,” Godric said. Merlin blushed and shook his head. “I insist.” The knight touched Merlin’s arm and bent so that they were eye-level. He lowered his voice. “Salazar told me you’ve already got some dueling experience. Don’t worry, Merlin. If I knock you out, I promise I won’t tell Arthur.”

He winked and Merlin nodded.

They straightened, shook hands and parted. Merlin counted in his head and at five turned around. Both wizards bowed and drew their wands. Godric broke his position and walked back to adjust Merlin’s stance. He nudged Merlin’s feet a little wider and tapped under his elbow so that his dominant arm was at a better angle to cast. Godric asked if it felt strange and Merlin told him it was better. Then they started from the beginning. After two or three more minor adjustments, Godric examined Merlin’s posture and changed nothing. “Good! Salazar said you were a quick learner.”

“Thank you, sir,” Merlin bowed.

Godric remembered the rest of his students and waved. “Good work, everyone! Next week we’ll start on the defensive spellwork!”

Cheers erupted and died into chatter as the students filed out. Merlin and Freya parted ways. He followed a line of Slytherins into the common room and split to enter his room where he headed straight for his trunk. Ink, quill, parchment, owl—Merlin forgot to check on Archimedes today! It was too late to go now. He would pen his letter and bring an extra treat for Archimedes in the morning before class. He sat down at his desk just as his roommates entered. They shuffled behind him, readying themselves for bed, and Merlin tried his best to scratch his letter quietly.

_Dear Arthur,_

_You won’t believe what’s happened! Godric has started a Dueling Club at Hogwarts. It’s probably the first official dueling club in all of Albion! Freya and I decided to check it out tonight, but of course I forgot it’s supposed to only be for men. I was so embarrassed, but she was okay with it. The funny bit is that I realized Godric will be teaching you_ and _me how to fight. Good thing too because this witch in my year has got it in for me (and no, she definitely doesn’t like me). I suppose I haven’t told you yet about my latest incident._

Merlin paused to dip his quill and bit back the grin he knew Arthur would share upon reading this letter. It was barely two months into the term and Merlin was already getting into trouble. He exhaled through his nose and scribbled a play-by-play of his fight with Morgause and consequent apprenticeship to Salazar. It was past midnight when Merlin finally finished. He changed into his sleep clothes while the ink dried, folded the paper and sealed it with wax heated from the last bit of candle. Merlin pressed the school sigil into the liquid as it congealed and wiggled to release it. He tucked the letter into his school bag, blew out the candle, and slid under the covers.

\--

The next morning Merlin woke early, dressed, and grabbed his satchel. He left the lower level and crossed the leaf-covered courtyard toward the Owlery. He slowed to relish the crunching and arrived at the stairwell just as the sun’s first rays pierced the tree-line. At the top of the turret, Merlin paused to catch his breath. He gripped the stone edge and leaned over. Salazar’s memory did not do Hogwarts justice. The amber, gold, and wine red of autumn decked the grounds. The only hint of green was a small patch of forest in the distance just at the edge of the Black Lake and the vines sneaking up the battlements to the south. Goosebumps popped down Merlin's arms and he stepped back from the rail.

After ten years the castle stood strong. The stone was barely worn and only noticeably chipped in the Great Hall. Of course in the Owlery…He covered his nose as he entered. Wooden rafters lined with owls spanned the rotunda at various heights, supporting the conical roof. The ground was lined in hay. Merlin stepped carefully toward the center and dropped his hand into a pocket to fish out the letter. The owls spooked at the motion.

“Archimedes,” Merlin sang. He wiggled the parchment and clutched a handful of treats. Despite this precaution the other owls sensed the hidden food and squirmed. Before they clawed Merlin to death, Archimedes fluttered down from an unseen spot near the top of the turret. He landed on a wooden beam and stretched his wings. His white eyebrows furrowed in a disapproving way. He twisted his head and refused to lift a leg where Merlin could see a parcel swung. Merlin feigned ignorance. “Morning! Got a letter for you and…”

He unfolded his fingers to reveal several brown clusters of honey nuts. Archimedes chirped and snatched the pieces one by one. Merlin flinched, nearly dropping them all, and laughed. The little owl downed every one and shook himself from beak to tail like a dog. He looked up at Merlin as if considering whether he ought to help. Merlin lifted the letter. “Please?”

When Archimedes made no move, Merlin reached a finger out and rubbed the top of Archimedes’ head. The little owl shut his eyes. Merlin expected him to start purring like a cat. When Archimedes opened his eyes, Merlin gave him his best sheepish smile. The owl whistled and puffed out his chest. "Thank you!" Merlin reached down and replaced the bundle with his letter. When he was certain it was secure, he backed away. “You know who it’s for."

Archimedes took flight. When he was out of sight, Merlin left the tower and undid the twine on his package. Two separate letters, one from his mother, one from Will, and a small purse of hard scones unfolded in his palms. Merlin read his mother’s letter first.

_My dear Merlin,_

_I pray you are doing well. I do not wish to alarm you, but these past few months have been difficult. The harvest was weak again and I fear for some of our elderly. Townspeople have resorted to stealing from the winter stores. I worry that Ealdor’s farms and livestock are not strong enough, but we will get through. I tell you these things because I want you to know more than ever how important it is for you to properly harness your gift. You were born for greater things than being a farmer. You have been blessed with this opportunity. I know you’re working very hard. Don’t forget to eat and write your mother. I miss you more than I can bear._

_All my love,_ _  
_Mother

Merlin turned to Will’s tiny scrawl.

_Dear Merlin,_

_Ealdor’s gone ter the dogs. I hope they’re teaching you some handy spells and I’m not just referring ter stuff that’ll help you complete chores faster, if you know what I mean. A band of thugs came through yesterday. Cenred’s men. Says there’s a new decree going ‘round. In exchange fer protection against dragons we must give up a part of our flour, wheat, eggs, cows…the list goes on forever. I reckon we’ll have nothing left fer ourselves. Wish you were back to show ‘em who they’re messing with, or at least give ‘em some trouble! Turning their horses into frogs or creating a storm cloud of doom, you know, regular wizard things. Even if they haven’t been teaching you stuff like that, at least you’d be another set of hands to help out. Come back soon! We need you._

Will

Merlin tucked the letters into his bag and took out a scone. He stared at the lumpy top. His mother wouldn’t readily admit to the poor state of Ealdor. Surely this meant he ought to go home. He’d be able to help in some way. Will wouldn’t joke about the law, but what would his mother and Ealdor gain by Merlin returning? He couldn’t fight the king’s men. Plus, Merlin would just be another mouth to feed. His mother’s instructions were firm. Stay at Hogwarts. Learn to control his powers. Merlin made up his mind to ask Arthur. With his nose in the court, Arthur would know about this protection law, right?

The morning bell tolled, signaling the start of classes. Merlin stuffed the scone in his mouth and walked to Transfiguration.

\--

Arthur spat blood and sweat from his lips before parrying another sword stroke from Godric in the empty arena. The distinct blend of tastes was new.

The master knight had struck Arthur’s helmet off earlier. When Arthur had disarmed him in retaliation, Godric had charged and punched. The move effectively knocked the prince back enough to give Godric time to retrieve his weapon and bust Arthur’s lip. Now they were both armed again. Uther insisted that when Godric and Arthur practiced one-on-one they would use real weapons. Although Godric was uncomfortable and explained that all pages should be on equal footing with wooden swords, he eventually relented to the king who periodically monitored their training sessions. Uther reasoned that a prince needed exposure to his weapon’s strengths and weaknesses. He needed to know the weight of the instrument he would carry into battle and the disarming vibration of steel on steel. He wasn’t entirely wrong.

Arthur listened for only the shift of Godric’s boots on the gravel and the clang of his armour. _Move too soon and you will open yourself to the enemy. Move too late and your life is forfeit._

His heart throbbed inside his bruised chest, a double ache that echoed in head.

A crunch.

Arthur pivoted, thrusting his blade forward only to have it thrown from his grasp by the force of Godric’s spinning sword. A sliver of cold metal singed his cheek and the letters reflecting off Godric's blade blinded him.

“Gotcha,” the knight grinned.

Arthur collapsed, panting.

“You always win, Godric.” Arthur threw down his gauntlets and chased the sweat from his brow with his forearm.

Godric sat down beside him in the middle of the arena, laying his sword between them. “One day you will surpass me in skill, Arthur. Of that I am certain.”

Arthur gave him a side-long look, doubt wrinkled his young features. “You’ve had so much more experience. You’ve fought in battles and won plenty of tourneys.”

“Yes, but you will have your share.” Godric paused, watching the wind take the Pendragon pennants dotting the stands around them. When they settled he turned. Arthur had his head ducked between his tented knees. Godric smiled, “Do you remember why we train, Arthur?”

“For Camelot,” Arthur chanted.

“No.”

Arthur looked up and met Godric’s clear gaze.

“We choose to fight, to protect Camelot, protect those we love and care for, but we train for ourselves. We train to practice a very important skill. We train to discipline our minds. What did you do today that cost you the victory?”

“I misjudged you. I fell for your feint. I struck where I thought you would attack.”

“Correct, but you _made a choice_ and you stuck by it. This is admirable, especially in battle when you have only a second to react. Being decisive also applies to matters of diplomacy. Of course, it _is_ important to be cautious and to ask why before making decisions. Why is my opponent moving in a way that exposes himself? Does it truly give him the upper hand and if it does, is it worth taking the risk to land an attack? What can I gain by responding? What is more appropriate: seeking counsel or applying military strength?”

“Why are you telling me this?” Arthur asked.

“Everything your father and I do is for the future of Camelot. The Camelot you will one day rule. We hope to develop balance between sorcerers and the fealty. For that we need you to understand why and how we make decisions. There is a reason behind every action. We show the people that we are both strong and wise by balancing aggression and compassion."

Arthur folded his hands. He could almost feel the wood arms of the high throne in his palms. “Do you really think I’ll be a good king?”

Godric reached over and thumped Arthur’s chest just above his heart. “I think in time you’ll be exactly the king we need and yes, Arthur, you will be a _good_ king.”

They sat in silence for a time, enjoying the warm breeze. Arthur’s breathing quieted, but sweat still slid down his nose. He tipped his face into his upper arm and wiped the moisture away; his eyes caught the glint of metal lying on the ground between them.

Arthur traced his finger on the indentations of Godric’s name. “I’ve always admired your sword. I wish I had such a weapon.”

Godric ruffled Arthur's hair. “One day, Arthur. You will have a weapon to befit your royal position. Just remember, the one who wields the sword has the greatest responsibility. The sword itself does not make the man. It is how he chooses to use it: in war and in peace.”

Arthur nodded, but it took Godric’s retreating steps and whistle to break him of these thoughts.

\--

Merlin watched the vapours swirl in the Pensieve. Around him, Salazar’s office grew fuzzy, but Merlin did not fall into a memory.

It was just after lunch and Salazar would return to his office before second years had their Potions lesson. Despite Merlin’s attempt to empty his brain, images of his mother and Ealdor swelled up.

Merlin had spent the start of the lunch hour at the Slytherin table feverishly composing a letter that summarized the news to Arthur. He asked Arthur whether he knew anything regarding protection taxes and if Camelot had any contact with Cenred since Ealdor was a border town. He ended with an apology and hope that Arthur would respond soon. Writing to Arthur had been his best idea but Merlin would have to borrow a school owl after lessons since Archimedes had just left. In the meantime, Merlin waited in Salazar’s office, mesmerized by the Pensieve. With his mind stuffed to the brim, it would be a relief to learn how to remove some memories. Merlin stepped toward the leathery spines. Perhaps there was a book that could instruct him how or if he was lucky, Salazar would teach him in time. Merlin had been given a great deal of trust from Salazar and was allowed to borrow texts in addition to potion materials whenever he pleased. He reached for _Seven Deadly Secrets._

Salazar entered the room holding a scroll in one hand while levitating two jars of yellow goo with his wand. Merlin dropped his hand and bowed. “Ah, Merlin. How fortunate. You can help me bring supplies to the Potions classroom for today’s lesson.”

Salazar gestured toward a pile on his work table. Merlin looked at to the ingredients. Bottles of distilled leech juice, buckthorn cherry reduction and bags of snake fangs sailed through the air in front of him where they hovered. Salazar made no comment about this feat. Apparently he had also grown accustomed to Merlin’s non-verbal, wandless spell-work.

“Master,” Merlin said. He watched Salazar retrieve his lesson plans. “I received a letter from my mother this morning…”

His explanation of Ealdor’s plight took them all the way to the door of the Potion’s classroom. Thankfully students were still in the Great Hall enjoying lunch so the room was empty. They swept inside and deposited their goods on several high tables.

“I think it pointless to concern yourself, Merlin,” Salazar said. He stepped behind his work bench and unfolded some scrolls. “Ealdor is not a wizarding village. It’s best to let them sort things out their own way.”

Merlin frowned. “What do you mean, sir?”

Salazar looked up. His eyes tightened and finally focused entirely on Merlin.

“Merlin…” Salazar sighed. His glanced to the window and then back to Merlin’s face. The small divets around his nose deepened and a line broke across his forehead. Merlin suddenly didn't want to be in the same room anymore. Salazar folded his hands in front of him. “Merlin, if I’m not mistaken you are the only wizard in Ealdor.”

Merlin swallowed and gave a curt nod.

“It’s been my understanding that Muggles are best left to their own devices. If they permit themselves to suffer it is only because it is meant to happen. It is normal. Wizards should intervene far less in Muggle matters because otherwise, they would seek magical remedies for all their problems.”

There was some truth in that, but Merlin could not think of any problems magic _couldn’t_ solve. “Isn’t it still our duty to help somehow?”

Salazar approached his pupil. “You have a noble heart, Merlin.” He lifted his hand suddenly, but hesitated, causing it to hover awkwardly above Merlin’s shoulder. He let it drop to his side. “I understand your desire to help those less fortunate than you, but it isn’t practical. Your mother is right. You are just a boy. You are here at Hogwarts to learn and here you must stay.”

A rush of students filed in behind Merlin, and Salazar returned to his desk to begin the lesson. Merlin found his seat and refused to answer any questions for the next two hours. Salazar did not call on him once.

When the lesson ended, Merlin gathered his supplies and left. His next class would be Charms before dinner but he had a half hour transition period before then. He avoided his classmates and stared at the ground, watching the diagonal streams of afternoon light pass beneath his feet. Without understanding where he was going or why, Merlin started running. His brain caught up and decided that Freya might have some answers. She had her lessons near the courtyard at this time. He could catch her if she had just finished-

Merlin collided with a wall and fell on his rear. He cursed Hogwarts Castle and its many trick stairs, jumping statues and fake tapestries he inevitably fell for or on. Merlin was just about to kick the wall in retaliation when he saw that it was not a wall at all. It was Godric Gryffindor.

“I am so sorry, Sir Godric!” Merlin squeaked. He clambered to his feet and clawed at his bag, but the contents spilled all over the floor.

“Are you alright, son?” Godric asked.

Merlin bent down to retrieve his books, spare parchment, and bottle of ink (thankfully, still corked and whole). “Yes, sir, I’m fine. I-” Godric picked up the folded piece of parchment with Arthur’s name on the front. He flipped the letter in his hand and offered it back to Merlin.

“You seem to have occasion to write often and to royalty,” Godric teased. “A true Slytherin with that ambition.”

Merlin clenched the letter and stared at the ground. He didn’t feel much like belonging to his house at the moment.

Godric tapped his shoulder, “I only jest.”

If Godric delivered his letter, it might reach Arthur faster, but Merlin doubted the knight would take kindly to messenger work. He bit his tongue. Godric asked, “Merlin? Are you alright?”

Merlin looked up. Creases bunched between Godric’s eyebrows and under his eyes. Merlin had seen that exact look before but couldn’t place where. Godric glanced at the letter and that was enough to start Merlin’s eyes stinging with unborn tears. He couldn’t cry in front of Godric! But nothing could stop it. His vision started to blur. Merlin opened his mouth intending to tell a white lie, but instead the truth came out. “My mum’s in trouble.”

“What’s happened? Is she alright?” Godric pulled Merlin sideways into a window pocket. Merlin explained everything for the third time, choosing to leave out the conversation with Salazar. When he finished, Godric said, “Ealdor is technically not a part of Camelot, meaning Uther has very little say in what happens. Unfortunately, we cannot offer official aid, but I am certain there is _some_ way we can help your village…“ Merlin wiped his tears and Godric’s eyes glazed over for a moment. Then, the knight nodded. “Come with me.”

Merlin followed Godric past the foyer and open doors to the Great Hall down a set of stairs and into a hallway he had never traveled through before. A pair of Hufflepuff girls passed them, greeting Sir Godric with a fit of giggles. Merlin ignored them and concentrated on his surroundings. They were nearly at the same level as the Slytherin rooms but given their abrupt turn just around the Great Hall, Merlin guessed, they were directly under. He was about to ask Godric when the professor halted in front of a large still-life portrait of a fruit bowl.

Merlin gaped when Godric reached up and _tickled the pear_? The fruit squirmed and squeaked in delight before turning into a doorknob.

“Helga thought it was cute,” Godric grinned, not unlike Arthur. The portrait swung open and they stepped inside. Merlin immediately looked up. The room was as tall and as wide as the Great Hall. Despite being underground, it was quite well-lit owing to five windows streaming enchanted sunlight. At least thirty copper pots dangled like strange fruit from a rope canopy. Merlin forced his eyes forward. Five tables identical to those above them sat, complete with empty plates, silverware and serving bowls. Around these tables dozens of little creatures bustled about, setting pots on stoves, removing fresh bread from ovens, and folding napkins. Their heads barely reached the tops of the tables, but that didn’t stop them. Merlin marveled at their cleverly rigged series of stools and pulleys. They had ears similar to dragon wings, leathery and thin. Their eyes were each the size of Merlin’s fist and most of the creatures had long pointed noses. Their limbs were thin and they were wearing towels as clothing. Godric explained, “House-elves.”

Hearing Godric’s voice, an elf nearby jolted to his feet, subsequently dropping his silver tray. Stacked cups fell to the floor and he squeaked a thousand apologies. Other house-elves turned to stare. When they saw the two wizards standing in the doorway, they bowed and curtsied before continuing their work. Godric withdrew his wand, gave it a wave, and sent the fallen goblets flying to the tables where they landed gracefully beside the plates.

“No harm done.”

The elf came forward and tucked his head down. “We did not expect you, Sir! We thought it was our Madame with tomorrow’s meal orders, we did. Had we known we would have prepared something for you! Have you need of us, Sir? How best can we be of assistance?”

Merlin blinked. The house-elf was bent so low his nose touched the stone floor and his voice was so high, Merlin heard only half of what was said. Unabashed, Godric replied, “Ah, Plunky, I suspect Helga will be here after dinner with a new recipe. She mentioned pork and kidney pie the other day. No, I come on other business.”

“Whatever we may do to help, please, Sir, we will!” Plunky clasped his stick fingers together and looked up expectantly.

Godric nodded and turned back to look directly into Merlin’s eyes. “What you’ve told me is deeply disturbing. I’ve wondered for a long time how the borders of Camelot fair, how the people survive. If Cenred is taxing his kingdom there’s a good chance Uther will know what is going on. I can deal with the court-side, but the fact remains that little may be done in time if at all. However, Hogwarts has ample supplies. We can buy time by borrowing some of these stores, enough time I think to come to a better solution. Right now we need to discover how far this condition may have spread.”

Merlin swallowed and nodded.

“I warn you, Merlin. We must be discreet,” Godric pressed. “No one can speak of this. You mustn’t tell your mother. If King Cenred’s men find out they will continue to suck the village dry of supplies or worse, find whoever is responsible. Therefore we must be clever about this. Do you remember exactly where the winter stores are in Ealdor?”

“Yes.”

The knight turned to the legion of Hogwarts house-elves. “We’ll do this incrementally over the next week. Plunky, you will be in charge. Merlin will return after his lessons today to write a list of supplies for you and describe exactly where to go. You and the other house-elves will gather small portions of each item to be delivered directly to these store rooms. You must not be seen by anyone else. A different elf should attend each night.”

Plunky lifted his head proudly. “Yes, Sir!”

“Now, Merlin, time for class. If I’m not mistaken we’ve made you very tardy.” Godric steered him out of the kitchen and they reached the top of the stairs. When Merlin turned to thank him, he was surprised to find Godric holding his hand out. “I think it best if you give me your letter to Arthur.”

Merlin didn’t argue. Godric folded the paper into his robes and said, “Listen, Merlin. I understand your concern for your mother, but you and Arthur are not to engage in any of these types of correspondences anymore. It is improper, not only because he is the son of a king, but because you are too young to deal with such politics. Camelot’s welfare rests on Uther’s shoulders. Is that understood?”

Merlin took a step back and his eyes fell on the Pendragon crest on Godric's tunic. He nodded, "Yes, sir."

\--

The operation went smoother than Merlin dared hope. The following week, every night after the sun had long set, Merlin tickled the pear on the portrait and entered the kitchens where he watched a single house-elf Disapparate with his bundle of goods. The house-elves were all pleased to do what they regarded as their duty and reported to Merlin after every trip. For the duration of the visits, the remaining elves sat with him offering all kinds of food while he waited. They regaled him with tales of past feasts, _so proud we are of the strawberry trifle we made!_ , and the items they’d found over the years in strange places. Merlin stayed by the huge hearth, determined that if he remained the whole night, he would find a letter the next morning from his mother about the magical gifts appearing in the night. He dared not write Arthur, so he spent the hours doing classwork and was surprised to find several house-elves quite skilled (among embroidery and cleaning) in distinguishing ground potion ingredients from cooking spices and Wizarding history, though their view was rather skewed. Merlin incorporated their responses in his essays and took time to draw diagrams in his personal journal.

\--

Uther sat up in his Dining Hall nursing a glass of wine. Morgana and Arthur had long finished and been excused to bed. Despite the stillness of the room his mind was far from idle. Word of a shortage had reached Camelot a week before. Some of the braver outlying villages had sent representatives to beg for assistance. Uther’s answer had all been the same: Camelot does not have the resources to spare. You must make do.

Of course he did not relate the fact that his military treaty with Cenred had not gone according to plan, so much that Uther had practically forced the border villages to become outposts for his knights on patrol. Would the people rather ration or be ravaged by war?

A knock echoed into the chamber. He didn’t spare a breath to answer. A scant second passed before the doors opened and his brother-in-law strode in. Uther had decided long ago that the man resembled a great-horned owl. His cloak riding up as it caught the draft from the hall did little to disprove this image. Agravaine’s eyes were always unbearably keen under their heavy lids. His hair was slicked back along the sides of his face like the pointed feathers that gave the owl its namesake. Agravaine always exhibited a nervous tick in his eyebrows and impatience had worn permanent stitches of tension at the corners of his lips. Uther watched those lines cinch into a smile.

“My king,” Agravaine inclined his head. The doors behind him closed. “Have you given any thought to my proposal?”

Uther motioned for the man to sit. “Yes. I have. I think it fair. Since we do not have the resources we must assert other options.”

“Absolutely. Of course, your majesty!”

“And if they should fail…”

“It shall simply be a confirmation of our suspicions, my lord.”

“Yes, quite,” Uther touched a finger to his lips in thought.

“You seem uncertain.”

“It is a great risk.”

Agravaine leaned forward on the table. “I assure you, sire, this is a win-win scenario. If the sorcerers refuse or fail to aid in this scheme, we will know for a fact where their allegiance lies. We have the best justification for demanding registration. Under a pretense of compensation, we will have the means to hold them accountable.”

Uther closed his eyes and silence swelled. Agravaine finally opened his mouth to speak.

“Summon Gaius for me,” Uther instructed. Agravaine’s cheeks tightened for a moment but Uther was finishing his glass of wine and did not take notice. He set the empty goblet down and met Agravaine’s eyes. “I want you both here.”

“As you wish, my lord.” He left. The doors closed after him.

Uther stretched his legs and moved to stand beside his chair with one arm resting on the high back. He looked down at nothing in particular, focused more on the conversation he would have in a matter of minutes. He must be tactful. He must be clever about this. He—a crack sounded and Uther lifted his gaze to find Godric Gryffindor standing at the far end of the table.

“Isn’t it a bit rude to simply appear? Don’t sorcerers have common courtesy?” Uther bit. Staring down Godric was something of a sport. He hardly ever budged.

Godric tipped his head ever so slightly. “I figure we’re past that.”

Uther let his arm drop off the chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Are you angry because I missed another council meeting?”

“I thought your duties were clear.”

“I was here the other day training Arthur.”

“ _I_ need you.” Uther's turned away from the words hanging between them.

Godric stepped around the table. "Uther..."

Uther held up a finger. “You are a Knight of Camelot, you are in command of the guard. It is vital that your presence be known. We need to be strong.” He paused and set his elbow onto the chair back again. “Why are you here, now?”

“I’ve heard there is a shortage affecting the border villages. Is this true?” Godric asked.

“Yes. There have been shortages since we did not settle to the peace treaty terms with Cenred and Lot. I’ve had to tax all the villages to provide enough for the men patrolling the border.”

“But the farmers cannot provide food enough for their own children.”

“Which is why Agravaine and I have devised a solution.”

Just then the great doors swung open.  “You asked to see me, sire?” Gaius entered, followed by Agravaine. Both men bowed.

“Yes,” Uther set his palms on the table. “As you know, the villages surrounding Camelot have provided for the men here, while the villages near the edge of the kingdom have helped feed those on patrol. Alas, there is not enough food for all. We must help the people help themselves. My proposal is this.”

He looked to Godric. “We enlist all sorcerers to aid in the rehabilitation of the landscape. With their help, we can re-invigorate the earth so that the fallow land can be utilized, perhaps even turn over a greater crop.”

Godric interrupted, “Though I am certain there are skilled witches and wizards, there is no guarantee that any of them have experience in these arts. It will take time to train, to test the magic."

“I agree,” Agravaine said. He turned to Uther with a knowing look. “May I suggest we expedite the process by forming a registry?”

“Go on,” Uther waved a hand.

“Naturally Godric would lead the general instruction and strategy at the first village, but with a number of knights, I could lead a small force to conduct a census of all the border towns. We’ll assess each witch and wizard’s capabilities and document their lineage. This way, when Godric arrives, he shall know exactly how to instruct and best direct their magical abilities.”

“Sire, we cannot be certain that this scale of magic can even be done,” said Godric.

“I have seen you clear the night sky to guide us home. You cannot tell me your magic is incapable of making that same cloud summon rain,” Uther replied, gaining speed. “Or help grass grow faster.” Godric tried to protest, but Uther commanded, “You will do this, Godric. You and Agravaine will travel to the border towns. You will begin your work with Willowdale. Agravaine will take Bertram, William, and Uwaine to collect a registry of all known witches and wizards. This is an order.”

Godric sighed through his teeth, “As you wish, my king.” He bowed curtly and left with Agravaine in his wake.

Gaius' sagging eyes stared reproachfully.

“Sire, I implore you,” Gaius said. With his hands behind his back, he anchored himself to the stone floor. “You know that this is much too great a task for Godric. His magic is mighty but this is very complex."

Uther turned his back on the old man.

“What I don’t understand, sire, is that you are doing exactly what you swore you would never do. You are asking for big magic.”

Uther stiffed. “You don’t understand, Gaius." He turned back. The skin beneath his eyes puckered into pouches. “If anyone can do this, Godric can. We will have undeniable proof once and for all.”

“Proof of what, exactly?”

Uther’s eyes stared beyond Gaius. “That highly advanced magic can be used for good, that those with magical powers not only have the responsibility but the ability to control their skill. I took a chance with Nimuë. She cost me Ygraine. I should have trusted Godric with the task.”

“Sire, I thought that was the whole point of creating Hogwarts, so that Godric could teach young witches and wizards how to control their gifts. Nimuë was very young and what she attempted was magic far beyond even my skills. It was magic Godric hadn’t heard of. You are forcing a solution you think will yield the answer you seek. You know that magic of any scale can be used for good. All these years I’ve provided herbal remedies infused with magical potions for you and your people and Godric has protected Camelot with his enchantments. Magic cannot be so easily divided into good and bad, sire. I beg you to dwell on that.”

\--

Godric didn’t miss a step as he Apparated from Camelot to Hogwarts. With a wave of his wand, he passed through the protective spells enveloping the castle and arrived at the foot of the empty Great Hall. All students were in their respective dormitories. Godric clinked down to the dungeon level, accustomed to how his armour echoed. He reached Salazar’s office and knocked as he entered. Despite the late hour, his friend sat hunched over several sheets of parchment.

“Godric,” Salazar blinked. “What is it?”

“Uther has ordered me to the edge of Camelot where I am to aid in the food shortage. He believes I can help re-invigorate the entire country using magic, even turn fallow land into fertile,” said Godric. He paced in front of the desk.

Salazar frowned and lowered his quill. “Does he expect you to work the weather? Use growth spells? Surely even he must know that manipulating the land to this effect with take time.”

Godric shook his head. Salazar pursed his lips, and Godric stopped walking. "Don't."

“Uther is reckless in his methods and continuously tries to meddle in things he does not understand, nor does he make an effort to understand!" Salazar erupted. He jabbed a finger accusingly, "All these years as your friend and he still remains as ignorant as ever.”

“I am his friend, but also a knight of Camelot. You know it is my duty to follow his word and at times, not to question it.”

Salazar laced his fingers together. “This is what Merlin spoke of earlier this week. He received a correspondence from his mother. Though in not so many words, I told him that this ignorance between Muggles and Wizarding folk is intolerable. We have had this discussion before, Godric. Muggles should learn to solve their own problems instead of relying on magical solutions. Besides, what does he expect you to accomplish so late in the fall?”

Godric sighed, leaning back on his heels. “I don’t know.”

After a moment, Salazar stood and reached for a cabinet in the back. From it he removed a short decanter filled with deep amber liquid. He poured two glasses and handed one to Godric. They tapped glasses before sending the Firewhiskey down their throats in one synchronized swallow. Salazar set the glass on the counter and folded his hands in front of him. Godric observed the dark lines around the bottom edges of his eyes slant inward.

“I may have a potion or two that will help,” Salazar relented. He looked at his desk. “I have been experimenting on a few growth serums for some time, but have no conclusive results. My aim was to maximize the potency of fertilizer without the…messy bits.”

Godric snorted. “Well I’d be obliged to take anything you have to offer.”

Salazar locked eyes with Godric and smiled wryly. “I’ll see what I can do.”

\-----

**WINTER**

Arthur and Leon hated training in the winter, but the knights insisted it was necessary. They took frequent enough breaks to keep from frostbite, but that did not lessen the sting when their boots soaks through. So long as there was no snow falling, the pages were forced to drill form-work in preparation for their spring tournament. Arthur and Leon spent extra time training on their own. On one such occasion, Arthur found himself on his back with Leon’s wooden sword pointed between his eyes.

“Just pretend they’re not there,” Leon suggested. He lifted the weapon back to a defensive stance. Arthur stood up again.

“I can’t!” Arthur hissed. The two circled each other on the crusted training field. “They’ve been here since morning. How can they still be watching?”

Leon peered over Arthur’s shoulder and saw Morgana giggle. In the cold her lips looked redder than ever. Her serving maid, Guinevere, smiled nervously. Leon fished, “Maybe they think the pressure will help?”

Arthur vented his frustrations through his weapon. With every breath the cold penetrated his throat deeper. Leon countered the wild swings with his shield.

“If they had gotten any closer to the targets,” Arthur’s sword cracked against Leon’s. “I swear I would have purposefully missed.” Leon thought it best not to comment on the fact that Arthur still missed more arrows than he scored when it came to archery. He let the rant continue. “If I have to listen to her go on at dinner again-”

“I can hear you, you know?” Morgana waved her handkerchief. She faked a yawn, which made Gwen actually yawn. She covered her mouth with a fuzzy glove.

“I meant you to!” Arthur retorted.

Morgana and Gwen gave in eventually. When all four had stinging cheeks and runny noses, they escaped to the heart of the castle where they crowded around the roaring kitchen fire.

“My lady, King Uther will be very displeased to find you here!” Gwen removed Morgana’s fur stole and took her cloak. Behind her the kitchen workers ignored them and continued with their preparations for the evening meal.

“ _If_ he finds me here. He has no reason to come into the kitchens,” Morgana argued. She squatted on her ankles in front of the hearth where several pheasants were roasting alongside a simmering pot. Gwen winced at Morgana’s sooty hem, but she curtsied all the same and scampered off to deposit her charge’s things in her bedroom. Leon and Arthur sat beside Morgana.

“Are you trying to get in trouble?” Arthur asked.

“I just think it’s stupid to worry about something so obviously improbable.”

Arthur looked to Leon, who raised his eyebrows and shrugged. Morgana smiled and snatched a poker beside the grate. She thrust it between the logs, watching the embers float into nothing. “Besides, we have an hour before dinner. I can make up some excuse. I almost always have to change anyway so it’s not like I’ll be showing up all covered in soot and chicken fat.”

There was no use arguing. Arthur and Leon worked the stiff gloves off their hands while discussing the tournament--who they thought had a chance, what sort of events they predicted would be more difficult given their individual strengths and what they ought to practice next. Morgana piped in every so often with a suggestion or demand. Half an hour later Gwen returned to collect Morgana, so that she could change before the meal by which point Arthur and Leon were warm enough to coax their sore muscles into action.

As Arthur and Leon parted ways, the former heading for his room and the latter to the stables, Arthur couldn’t help but shudder at the nervous tingle down his spine. The real training would start in the early spring. He couldn’t wait for the weather to turn. He hated winter.

\--

Every time Godric showed up for training he looked more harried than the time before, and rarely stayed long enough for Arthur to show him any progress. His frequent absence left little pagely work for Arthur. On top of that, Arthur had not received any correspondence from Merlin since the beginning of October. Merlin must be swamped with school work, or Archimedes could have gotten hurt or lost, perhaps prevented by a snow storm. But in the early sleepless hours, Arthur turned on his side and slipped a hand under the coolness of his pillow to touch the edge of the coin. Merlin's laughter turned to mocking and the remnants of his voice fabricated lies that echoed in his head. If indeed Merlin ceased writing altogether...Arthur buried his face in the sheets. Merlin was his private confidante and Arthur couldn’t send letters without Archimedes.

He started half a dozen letters to send whenever Archimedes did arrive, but the possibility that the owl may never return was even more depressing, so Arthur packed away his quill and ink into the desk drawer. He re-read Merlin’s letters, trying to figure how or when his friend could’ve had a change in heart. Although Merlin had discussed his problem named Morgause, overall, he had seemed cheerful. Arthur hoped Morgause hadn’t actually done him in. Arthur forced himself to believe it was impossible. He would just have to be patient and hope to hear from Merlin soon.

\--

Merlin did not accomplish Occlumency by mid-winter. Salazar and Godric seemed to have forgotten about their wager in the midst of exams. In fact, his private lessons had halted altogether. Merlin wasn’t complaining. He had enough work to carpet the whole Slytherin Common Room if he wanted, but early December came and everyone was in a complete frenzy so Merlin retreated to the library. He staked a claim on a secluded corner where four tables and a large bookcase ( _Medicinal Plants of the High Mountains – Herbal Remedies the Western Way)_ created a cave.

The days grew short and Merlin had to light candles by four in the afternoon. He typically burned through five or six, waiting for the morning sun to penetrate the windows. It didn’t bother him, mostly because he tended to doze during the early hours and he always found his candle supply replenished. He suspected the house-elves supplied him with left-over nubs from the Great Hall or Common Rooms while he slept. Plunky had told him the mark of a good house-elf was to do the bidding and never be seen unless called for. Merlin was thankful for the help, though he did wish one of them would visit for a while.

Freya studied with Merlin after dinner for an hour or two before returning to Ravenclaw Tower. She never stayed overnight. He couldn’t blame her. As much as Merlin craved the lullaby of the lake, he could not bear to leave his books and homework lying about, and it was too much to pack and unpack every day.

The week leading up to his Herbology exam was no different. His homework was meant to fish out any memory of the material covered earlier in the semester, including the care, harvest, and use of over thirty medicinal plants. It worked. Merlin considered his location particularly well-conceived on account of his essay—20 inches explaining the differences between Hollyhock and Feverfew. Now he just needed the books.

Merlin moved to the shelf and began pulling every tome that suggested by the title that it might be useful. He slammed them on the table and started an outline. He had most of the facts scribbled in place when a double shadow fell across his parchment. Merlin looked up.

A Hufflepuff boy set a book down in front of him. “You might need this.”

Merlin blinked at a well-loved copy of _Marywart’s Comparative Guide to Medicinal Plants._

“Hollyhock/Feverfew essay?” the boy asked, sitting down in front of him. He had cropped straw hair and slightly drooping eyes that reminded Merlin of Will’s first dog. “It’s the same essay I did last year. I had trouble finding material-”-he eyed the horde of books Merlin had gathered with a smile-“-and I figured since the library hasn’t got anything new, that you wouldn’t find much either. I purchased this book when I traveled to Lappland.”

Merlin flipped through the pages with care. Every other page was a chart comparing similar plants with written and visual descriptions. “It’s wonderful! Thank you...What’s your name?”

“I’m Linnæus, but you can call me Linne if you want,” he offered. They shook hands. He went on, “You’re Merlin, right? I’ve seen you working every night. Madame Helga told Sir Godric that you’re really excelling! And I couldn’t believe it when I’d overheard Tristram telling Garreth you’d participated in the Dueling Club. I didn’t think you could possibly be the same person since you seemed to enjoy studying a lot more than…sports.”

The statement fell flat at the end and his forehead crinkled pink. “I’m sorry. I just thought you’d, well, nevermind. You can keep the book for as long as you need an-”

Merlin smiled. “Do you think you could help me with the essay? I mean, not tell me what to write or anything, but, just read it over when I’m done writing it?”

Linnæus nodded. “I’d be delighted.”

In two hours time, Merlin learned many things, the most important being that Linne was incredibly patient. When Merlin grew frustrated, Linne taught him new study techniques. Merlin discovered that his tutor was not only a fourth year Hufflepuff, but the head of his class when it came to Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. Linne talked and talked, about growing up in the country, raising animals, starting his pressed plant collection, his favourite and most extensive being his flower specimens. It seemed that he had been fit to burst with stories. Merlin absorbed them like a sponge.

Linne never failed to provide thought-provoking conversation or helpful hints. Freya even joined them for Saturday morning study sessions and somehow, overnight, they became an inseparable trio.

When it came time to share more about himself Merlin discovered that he had lost his reluctance. He and Freya brought Linne up to speed on everything: family life, the fact that they were both sponsored, Morgause, private lessons, and most importantly, Arthur.

“Wait, you’re best friends with Arthur, _the_ Arthur, _Prince_ Arthur of Camelot?” Linne asked. He nearly swallowed the peppermint candy he had been knocking about between his teeth for the past hour. The three of them planned on making a circuit around the Black Lake and stood bundled up by the front entrance.

Merlin dropped his eyes and started down the steps. “Sort of. He probably thinks I hate him now. I told you about the food shortages. Ealdor was in trouble and since Godric helped, I thought I ought to do as he says.”

“But he probably didn’t mean that you shouldn’t write Arthur at all, just that you shouldn’t talk to him about…well, political stuff,” Linne reasoned. Then added, “Probably.”

Merlin stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“You should just write him,” Freya said.

“Better to ask for permission than forgiveness?” Linne asked. He paused, screwing up his eyes and nose. “Wait, no. Switch that.”

Merlin laughed and Linne grinned. Freya took Merlin’s hand and the three of them set off for the Lake.

\------

**SPRING**

The snow finally melted, exposing muddy patches of ground and dead leaves. Arthur itched to go outside. He rose at dawn every day, sparred with Leon, tended to all his equipment, cleaned the horses, and observed the knights in their training. They picked up form-work again, wherein one knight would give a call and all the pages holding wooden swords obeyed by snapping to a corresponding offensive or defensive pose.

The excitement of the tournament took over. Arthur and Leon resumed their previous work. From sword fighting to archery and horsemanship, Morgana and Gwen tagged along. Sometimes Morgana teased, but most of the time they cheered and waved.

On one rare occasion Uther visited the training ground to watch Arthur and the other pages. The knights acknowledged their king and continued schooling their respective pupils. Arthur became so flustered he narrowly avoided shooting Sir Sagramour in the knee and lost two rounds of wrestling with Leon before he got his head back. Arthur tried to ignore his father for the rest of the practice. It didn’t work.

\--

Godric finally seemed to have some reprieve from his duties and practiced with Arthur every day for the two weeks leading up to the tournament. Although Arthur was pleased to have his mentor back, it seemed as if Godric was making up for lost time by pushing Arthur harder than ever. Arthur went to bed every night, sore from a day’s worth of chivalry recitation, hand-to-hand combat, horse-back riding, throwing, and armour building, the last of which entailed dressing and undressing an adult-sized wooden model in full knight attire in the proper order in under three minutes, then doing it all over again. After the fourth time, Arthur decided he hated chainmail. After the fifth, buckles. After the sixth, the clasp on the riding cloak. After the seventh, he decided being a knight was worth it just to have someone else put your armour on for you.

\--

The night before the tournament Arthur turned fitfully in his bed. Under the heavy covers he lay awake playing every scenario possible. The knowledge that they would only be using wooden weapons did little to comfort him. He wasn’t worried about getting injured. It was the crowds drilling a different name into his skin and Godric announcing to his knights that he was ashamed to have Arthur as his page, prince or no prince. His father disinheriting him, being exiled from Camelot, living off of scraps...Arthur slapped a hand to his forehead and moaned.

Then something fell on his stomach. He tipped his chin cautiously over the edge of the blankets at the squirming lump.

“Archimedes!” Arthur cursed.

The bird hopped over and Arthur sat up. He cupped his hands around the owl and brought him to his chest. “What are you doing here?”

Archimedes whistled and obediently lifted his foot. Arthur blinked. Nothing was attached.

“I think you’ve gone loopy. Did Merlin send you?”

The owl insistently jiggled his bare ankle. Arthur frowned, putting the fluffball down. “Archimedes, there’s-”

The impatient owl nipped his finger.

“OUCH! Okay fine you nutter,” Arthur snapped. He checked for a wound and rolled his eyes. It was probably three in the morning and he was pretending to receive an imaginary letter for the sake of an owl. Then his hands brushed against something scratchy and _not there_. Archimedes bobbed his head smugly as Arthur wrapped his fingers around a squishy cylinder of solid air. Closing his eyes, Arthur felt for a tie. His fingers closed around an invisible string and he pulled.

A silver cloth and small rectangular slip of parchment magically appeared in his lap. He unfolded the note.

 _Arthur – It’s good isn’t it? I wish I could’ve seen your face! This is a handkerchief I disillusioned in Charms class for my exam. It appears invisible because it takes on the characteristics of whatever is behind it. Pretty neat, eh? It’s not much, but I wanted to wish you luck in your first ever tournament. I’m sure you’ll do great! –_ Merlin

 _P.S. You should keep Archimedes until the tournament is over. He can be my representative._ _  
_P.P.S. Sorry I haven’t written in ages. I know it’s no excuse, but I’ve been really busy with school. I promise I’ll write again soon.__

Warmth burned up Arthur's throat and forced his lips to part in a stupid grin. He looked at Archimedes, whose glassy eyes glinted in the dark. The owl hopped toward him and Arthur put a hand out to catch the bird. As he stroked the feathers on Archimedes’ head, Arthur said, “He’d better.”

\--

Arthur's heart stopped with every lull and swelled with every cheer of the crowd. He couldn’t see them. He didn’t want to see them. He stood uncomfortably inside one of the tents surrounding the entrance to the arena. Leon had just left to speak with Sir William outside. Where was Godric?

Arthur wiggled his fingertips. Keep the blood flowing, he reminded himself. He’d need a strong grip. He tried to remember Gwen and Morgana’s encouraging words and Leon’s nervous grin, but nothing could shut out his father’s words. _I know you will not disappoint me._

At least he had managed to get into his armour properly. Customarily the page’s tournament consisted of several events happening simultaneously. Viewers were permitted to walk the grounds to visit each competition station. The pages rotated positions so that they did not compete against the same person more than once. Opponents and tasks had been paired randomly. There was only one event in which the pages would all compete against one another: the opening ceremony, which was a mixture of obstacle and melee.

Arthur clenched his fist and felt something invisible pinch his upper arm just as Godric stuck his head through the tent flap. “Ready?”

“Yes,” Arthur tried not to look afraid. He furrowed his eyebrows just like his father and sulked. With a deep breath, he walked through the slit and squinted in the sun.

“You know, this tournament is not the end. You can still be a knight even if you don’t win first place,” Godric reassured.

“It doesn’t matter. I am the prince of Camelot. I’m _supposed_ to win.”

“Arthur…” Godric’s heavy hand settled on his shoulder. “You’re going to make me proud, no matter what.”

He looked up at the knight and tried to ignore the sun peeking over the top of his mane. With his lips turned up and the corners of his mouth tapered down, Arthur said, “It’s not you I’m worried about.”

\--

Uther made the welcome announcement. Then everything exploded.

The clash of armour deafened him. Arthur inhaled, blocking out the sound as he dug his foot into the dirt, exhaled, and saw Leon out of the corner of his eye swing his sword up to meet Gavin’s. Arthur ducked and turned to catch another page in the back. One down. Then another. Again and again until he poised himself for an attack that never came. The cheers erupted around him and he saw the pages on the ground stumbling to stand up. Just like that, Arthur had won Melee.

\--

Arthur hadn’t seen Leon after the first event. He only managed a glimpse of him traveling the obstacle course before his vision was obscured by three maids and their respective ladies. Around mid-day, Arthur scrambled into his tent for a much-needed break. He drank a whole pitcher of water in under a minute and was still thirsty. He belched just as Godric entered. The knight laughed and smothered Arthur’s head with his palm. “Good start. Won Melee, the Running, and the Wrestling. Ready for archery now?”

Arthur batted at Godric’s hand and grinned. “Yes.”

Archery points were awarded on individual performance and shared on the scoreboard at the end of the tournament. As such, Arthur had no idea how well any of the other pages had done. He had to hope for the best.

He tried cool indifference, but it didn’t work. By the end, he managed to scrape a barely above average score. Godric wasn’t fazed.

Horsemanship followed. Arthur led his steed through a series of footwork maneuvers and performed simple jousting techniques on the wooden horse. Without a moving, breathing animal beneath him, demonstrating how to tilt and pose with a proper lance grip seemed pointless. Nonetheless, he swallowed relief when his performance won him the event against his fellow page by a marginal amount.

His aural strategy declamation was against Leon. Both were given a sequence of threatening situations by the judges. These ranged from castle sieges and thousand men battles to one-on-one duels. Each page was given a minute to deliver a plan of action. They tied.

\--

The pages lined up in front of the king’s stand, perpendicular to the scoreboard. They dared not look at one another. A trumpet sounded. In unison, the boys touched their left knees to the ground and rose once more in a salute. Stripped of their armour, they waited in sweat-drenched tunics and on baited breath.

“The winner of today’s page tournament is…”

Arthur's throat crackled, his lips chapped.

The inside of his mouth tasted disgusting.

The drums picked up, the sound throbbing in time with the blood in his ears.

“…young Leon, page to Sir William!”

The crowd erupted. Pennants, ribbons, and arms waved. Leon, covered in dirt with hair stuck to his forehead, bowed graciously before the roaring crowd. Even reserved as he was, he could not help laughing.

He gave Arthur a humble smile as the other pages circled around to congratulate him. After a few nods and thanks, Leon pushed toward Arthur and clapped a hand on his shoulder. The gesture left an invisible sting of jealousy. Arthur forced his body to remain still against the angry beast rising up inside his heart. He clenched his fists. Defeat cut into his bones. It was unlike the defeat he experienced with Godric. No, this was something new.

Leon dropped his hand. His eyes darted unsteadily over Arthur’s whole face. The crowd quieted.

Arthur fought his ego. Leon deserved his victory. _Arthur was a Prince! He was born to be victorious!_ Leon had competed fairly. _So had Arthur!_ Leon’s skill had won out. _Lucky blows. The sun blinded him._ Leon was _worthy_.

Arthur thrust his hand out. “Congratulations, Leon.”

Leon looked down at the offer and then back up. He watched the words drain the annoyance from Arthur’s face, replacing his glare with soft praise. Leon reached out and they gripped forearms.

The crowd applauded.

“Thanks, Arthur,” Leon mouthed.

The two exchanged smiles.

Somewhere, a voice called. “Now may the celebration feast begin!”

\--

And now the deed. Tired as he was from the festivities, Arthur dragged himself to his desk and started his letter.

_Dear Merlin,_

_I regret to inform you that I lost to Leon in the tourney. He’s a much better page than I. I’ll spare you the details since I know you don’t care much for tournaments and besides, it’s less exciting in written form. Suffice to say I will be training harder than ever to make up for it. My father was so disappointed he did not speak a word to me throughout the entire feast. I know I’ve let down the whole of Camelot. Today I feel completely worthless._

_Write to me soon. I fear the jealous beast will rear its head once more,_ _  
_Arthur

\--

_Dear Arthur,_

_Just think of it this way: if anything, the people of Camelot now know of your humility, chivalry, and good sportsmanship. You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. You tried your best, you recognized your faults, and you’ve a plan to better yourself. Be disappointed if you like, but don’t expect me to be! I think what you did was just and I’m sure Leon is grateful for it. You let your friend shine._

_As for the jealous beast, my remedy is this: Just think if I had been out there wearing armour and waving around a wooden sword? Or trying to joust? I don’t think I’ll ever be able to ride a horse! You’ll always be better with a sword than me!_

_Yours,_ _  
_Merlin

\--

“We have struck a strong treaty,” Uther announced, setting down his quill. He rose from his throne. The scraping of a half dozen chairs followed. “My fellow kings, let us protect this great land together.”

“We ride as one.”

“Strength in numbers!”

Arthur stood out of the way as the meeting adjourned. Agravaine gave him an indulgent smile across the table and once every man left, turned to Uther.

“Sire, this meeting was a complete success,” Agravaine said. He extended two scrolls to Uther. “You made a wise decision given the current climate. These are the results of our census. I’m certain you’ll find good use for them.”

Uther weighed the scrolls. “Your hard work will not go unnoticed. This is valuable information. Thank you, Agravaine.”

Arthur inched toward the door.

“I simply seek to make Camelot a safer place,” Agravaine bowed deeply.

Uther raised his eyebrows. When Agravaine straightened, he glanced in Arthur's direction.

Uther turned, realizing his son was present, and tucked the scrolls under his arm. “Arthur, I pray you learned something at today’s meeting. This newly forged bond affords us the opportunity of expanding our lands and protecting the existing borders from Cenred and Lot.”

“Yes, father,” Arthur said. Satisfied, Uther waved him away. Arthur marched out but his curiosity anchored him to the hall. Their voices carried just beyond the doors.

“…with more resources at your disposal, I believe it is possible,” Agravaine said.

“Yes. We’ll cut the infection from Camelot before it spreads.”

\--

Uther’s chambers were stifling but he refused to move from his place beside the roaring fire. He rested his arm at the edge of the table. The logs popped loudly. 

“I thought I told you to place a new Apparition Ward over Camelot for Arthur’s sake.” 

“I did, but being _me_ has its privileges.”

Godric stepped into the firelight and Uther looked up, unamused. Even with his eyes shut, Uther had sensed him.

“Uther, I promise I am the only sorcerer who can Apparate within the walls of Camelot.”

Silence save for the whining logs and hissing flames.

Godric waited, watching Uther with an unfaltering gaze. Uther steepled his finger and reclined in the chair. Without turning he nodded curtly for Godric to sit. Godric took the chair at the opposite end of the table.

“So how goes this school of yours then?”

Godric shifted in his seat. His voice hitched and he answered reluctantly, “Quite well. My students have just gone to bed for the night.”

“Ten years it’s been since you started that school.”

“Yes. Time moves quickly.”

“Perhaps I ought to pay you a visit there.”

Godric’s eyes widened. Uther laughed, “I jest.”

Godric closed his eyes and exhaled. “Sire, about the short-”

“If you keep missing council meetings though, I might,” Uther added.

“I understand,” said Godric quickly. “I will be at the next meeting. Things have been rather busy since the-”

“Of course, Arthur’s training is-“

“-still at the top of my list, sire. He has improved greatly. His performance at the tournament was both impressive and admirable. He showed great humility in the face of defeat.”

Uther grunted. “He’s to be a knight of Camelot. I hope you’ll spend more time with him in the future.”

“Yes, my lord. I shall.”

Uther scrutinized Godric’s face. After a moment, he resigned, “I know why you’re here.”

“My lord?”

Uther laughed, this time, without humour. “I struck an alliance. I made the decision to reinforce Camelot’s garrison at the border. Did you think I wasn’t paying attention? Agravaine brought the report today. The evidence is clear. Sorcery will no longer play a part in maintaining Camelot’s welfare.”

“Sire!”

“I gave you a chance, Godric. I wanted to believe that magic could be used for good, to help our country and make it a safer, healthier land, but it has done worse. If you believe otherwise, then refute Agravaine’s report: outlying farms marred by blackness, not a single blade of grass grows, any creature that eats from the meager dead crop succumbs to sickness and perishes. Is this not what you’ve seen?”

Godric’s fingers curled into fists, disbelieving, “What?”

“So you were unaware? I suppose being in so many places has made it rather impossible to keep track of where your priorities lie.”

“Don’t,” Godric glared. He rose to his feet, planting his hands on the table. “My heart has always been with the welfare of this kingdom. I have stood by you, fought battles for you, and protected this castle for over fifteen years. I have been monitoring the administration of growth potions by the registered witches and wizards. Up until two days ago they were proceeding according to your every desire.”

“Then one of us is a liar and the fact remains: the land is sterile,” Uther spat. He rose to peer out his window. After a moment, he said softly, “I had no choice, Godric. If we cannot protect the land…” He regained some conviction and pivoted, his face halved blue and gold. “I chose to protect the people. Magic is clearly no longer a viable solution. We use force from now on. Double up the guard around the Darkling Woods. I am sending Agravaine to the border at dawn with whatever rations we can spare. He will bring orders that the outer villagers are to seek refuge in nearby villages for the time being.”

“And what of the farms? The land will never be reclaimed?”

“I’ll allow you to be the judge of that. Perhaps seeing the decay will loosen your mind. It seems sorcery is not as reliable even to the talented and trained, or perhaps, it is the sorcerer?”

Godric restrained his temper. Uther's implication must be disproved.

He Disapparated.

\--

Godric stormed into the Hogwarts dungeon. The office door sprang open without so much as a nod. When he entered he found Salazar calmly reviewing a scroll on his desk as if he hadn’t heard a sound.

“Godric.”

“Tell me what you put in that potion,” Godric breathed. Salazar set his work down and looked up. Godric closed in on his prey. Salazar's eyes flickered to Godric’s wand tethered at his hip by sheer force of will and then met Godric’s stare.

“I told you I just recently started exper-”

“Don’t be coy with me, Salazar,” he cut off. “You purposefully tainted it.”

“So it worked well, then?” Salazar sneered, disregarding all pretense. He reclined. “Was Uther pleased with his results?”

“Is that what this is about?” Godric asked.

“Someone needed to teach Uther a lesson. I knew you never would, so I took the initiative. I did it for the good of all.”

“Salazar, people are dying of starvation,” Godric said. “You have dismantled three villages. No one will ever be able to farm there again. You have destroyed the livelihood of over a dozen families.”

“Uther did that the moment he demanded sorcerers solve his problems. If he had allowed the land to take its natural course and went with a little less in his great hall for even a week, those villages could have been spared!” Salazar retorted.

Godric pointed his wand at Salazar. He whispered, “There is only one king of Camelot. We _all_ live under his rule. I am still a knight. I will bring you to justice for these crimes if I must.”

Salazar opened his mouth.

“Choose your next words wisely, friend,” Godric said.

Salazar folded his hands in front of him and lowered his head. He exhaled slowly. “What would you have me do?” He peered up at Godric, intense pressure constricting his eyes.

“Find a cure.”

“Impossible.”

“Find a way.”

Salazar paused. His voice tempered, as if he were explaining to a child, “There is no counter-draught. The potion constricts the very roots of the plants, which in turn, poison the earth around them. Even if you were to uproot them, the damage is already done. The fields will never bear crop.”

“Then there is no way to treat the soil?”

“I’m afraid that is magic beyond me.”

Godric felt the weight of Uther’s words. _It is the sorcerer._

A meager knock interrupted the silence. A swath of black hair preceded a thin face.

“Merlin,” Salazar waved his pupil in. “Time for our lesson.”

 _It is the sorcerer._ The sorcerer. _Merlin._

Godric felt Salazar’s eyes trained on his face. He knew Salazar could see the idea forming and was about to protest. Godric rounded on him, “No. You do not make this decision. You have done enough.”

“In the service of a friend! In the service of _our kind_ ,” Salazar hissed.

Merlin, sensing the dangerous air, tensed like a stag. An almost inaudible squeak issued from him, which might’ve been “excuse me” or “sorry” or “I’ll come back later” or all those at once.

Godric stepped forward, placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and steered him back to the door. He muttered instructions for Merlin to wait in the courtyard for him. He half-turned back. His eyes met Salazar’s pinched face. “I know you did what you thought was right, but you must realize, Salazar: whether you like it or not, we live in the same world as Muggles. We have a duty to our race, mankind, not just wizards. It is by this design that we protect those without magic.”

He turned to leave.

“No.”

Godric did not turn this time. He let Salazar’s words cascade over his back.

“ _You_ have a duty to protect all of Camelot, _Knight_. I protect my own.”

Godric closed the door behind him.


	9. -4, 1005, SUMMER

Arthur reclined against the tree trunk. He shifted his back around the knots until he found a comfortable position in which he could see Merlin. The pair had decided to climb a honey locust. Its leaves were perfect for screening so that they could lounge undisturbed for hours.

Arthur watched Merlin climb to and straddle a thick branch. He checked the view, turning his profile to Arthur as a warm summer breeze made the tree hiss. Sunspots and shadows flashed across Merlin’s cheek and neck so that Arthur’s gaze didn’t settle until the dappled pattern did.

Merlin deemed the spot worthy and turned toward Arthur, but before he could speak, Arthur asked, “How’s Freya?”

Merlin jabbered, “Great. Good. Nothing new. Just sort of going to class. Wish you could meet her. She's brilliant. We’re still friends except now we hold hands sometimes and…”

Arthur snorted. Putting Merlin on edge was an art and Arthur had perfected his techniques.

“Nah. You can keep the nasty details of your love life to yourself.”

“We’ve only kissed twice and it was for luck with exams and then at the end of term!”

Merlin always fell for the Defensive Maneuver as Arthur dubbed it. He purposefully baited Merlin.

“Uh huh,” Arthur chanted. His eyes darted down to Merlin’s lips. Pressed tight, shallow dips under his nose and curving dimples. He was telling the truth.

“So what? I bet you’ve kissed Morgana loads of times.”

Arthur whinnyed like a dying horse. He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue “You’re a nasty git! She’s like a sister. I am not gonna kiss her. EVER. Not in a thousand years!”

Merlin laughed at Arthur’s face. “I bet if you went a thousand years without kissing anyone you wouldn’t care who you got to kiss. You’d pick the first person you saw!”

“Keep dreaming, Merlin. If I’m around in a thousand years you can be sure no one will want _me_ to kiss _them_!”

They shared a laugh, joined by another warm breeze which shook the tree around them. When the branches settled, Merlin asked, “Really though. No court ladies catch your eye? None madly in love with the Prince of Camelot?”

“Nah.” Arthur shook his head, resting an arm on his bent knee. He gave Merlin a slanted grin. “It’s you we have to worry about! Two kisses? What next, marriage? Ooooo!”

Merlin blushed furiously. “It’s totally not…It’s a different…Nevermind!”

Arthur clutched his sides, peals of laughter arresting Merlin’s attempts at speech. He resorted to throwing snapped twigs at Arthur until he stopped.

“So you gonna show me some new magic?”

Merlin shrugged. “I’m tired.”

“Come on!”

Merlin shook his head and wouldn’t meet Arthur’s gaze.

“Merlin…what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on. Tell me.”

“It’s really nothing,” Merlin replied. His eyebrows turned downward in irritation.

Arthur was persistent. “Merl-”

“Look. I’m not supposed to talk about it with you,” Merlin stated, glaring at Arthur fiercely.

“What do you mean you’re not _supposed_ to?” Arthur watched Merlin’s face unwind. The lines under his eyes thinned, only to be replaced with puffy bags when Merlin puffed his cheeks.

“Godric…” Merlin trailed off.

“Come off it. Godric’s just being over-protective. He’s always like that. Just tell me.”

Merlin stared into Arthur’s clear eyes. He shook his head. “He’ll find out.”

“He’s a sorcerer but he’s not _that_ magical.” Merlin winced. Arthur tried again, “Well what about if I ask you questions and you answer them. Then you won’t be telling me directly?” Arthur didn’t wait for Merlin’s answer. “Is it something to do with Hogwarts?”

Merlin shook his head.

“Is it something to do with Camelot?”

Merlin nodded.

“Did Godric make you promise not to tell?”

Another nod.

“So is it something Godric made you do?”

Merlin’s mouth slanted and he half-shrugged.

“You wanted to do it?”

Merlin nodded.

“A secret job related to Camelot that Godric asked you to do and you accepted?”

Merlin nodded vigorously.

“What job?”

Merlin gave him a withering look and pursed his lips.

Arthur racked his brain. “Is it something to do with the border? Father recently increased the number of patrols and signed a treaty to protect against Cenred and Lot…Oh! Did Godric have you help him do protective wards like he has over Camelot?”

With the same _kind of_ expression, Merlin tugged on an imaginary rope.

But Arthur couldn’t think of anything else. He had no knowledge beyond that which he heard in the counsel room. He had yet to decipher the cryptic snips of conversation between his uncle and father, and Godric hadn’t shared anything.

“I give up,” Arthur shrugged.

Merlin sighed, “Probably for the best.”

Arthur watched Merlin pick at a leaf and tried, “Want to go fishing?”

“No…I have to go,” Merlin said.

“We just got here!” Arthur sat up.

“It’ll be better if I leave early. I’m done selling at the market and mum probably needs me,” Merlin reasoned. He dropped from the tree, grabbed his bag and started walking away. “I’ll come for the next trade in a few weeks!”

“Merlin! Wait!” Arthur climbed down and followed his friend a few strides, but Merlin quickened his pace.

“I’ll be back. Promise,” Merlin called over his shoulder. He waved a hand.

\--

Leaving Arthur was akin to leaving Ealdor. Merlin just couldn’t trust himself to keep quiet. He concentrated on pulling his travel bag tighter over his shoulders. The memory of Godric and his mini-quest filled every crevice of free thinking space so that Merlin was constantly mulling over some part of it.

As instructed, Merlin had met Godric immediately following _the argument_. Bolting to his dormitory had been tempting, but Merlin wasn’t about to disobey a Hogwarts teacher, especially one he owed a favour. He wondered how Master Salazar would treat him at their next lesson. He covered his eyes just thinking about how he followed Godric’s orders so quickly.

Godric entered the courtyard.

“Merlin, I have a heavy request.”

“Sir?”

Godric explained the condition of the border villages, the use of Salazar’s altered growth potions, and the consequent deterioration of the crops.

“You want me to try and restore the land?”

Godric nodded.

Merlin gaped. “But…sir…I, how can I…”

Godric set a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “I am not asking you because you are the most talented wizard in this school. I am asking you because you are invested in the welfare of others. You think in a way that no one else does. You are young, resourceful, inventive, and I believe-” Godric paused. His gaze shifted over Merlin’s face. “-I believe if you do not succeed, no one will.”

Merlin swallowed.

“I know that exams are upon us. Since the land is forsaken, we will try after we have concluded the term. In the mean time I will do what I can to find a solution.”

Merlin agreed to it and no sooner had his last Transfiguration spell been cast, he found himself traveling by Side-Along Apparition. Godric and Merlin arrived in Willowdale.

“Follow me,” Godric murmured. “Wand at the ready.” They crossed the wooden fence surrounding the edge of town and walked through the empty village. Merlin stayed close to Godric. The dwellings were in tact but doors hung open without care, exposing empty shelves and tables. The silence was loud. No birds or insects. Not even the wind moved here. Merlin’s grip tightened around his wand.

They followed the short path to the start of the farmland. When they reached the edge, Merlin's heart dropped. He knew Godric was looking at him, but Merlin could not tear his eyes from the scene before him.

The land was charred, as if a great fire had lashed the ground, but what he saw was not the ground at all. A blanket of wilted crops spanned each row. Some had been uprooted and Merlin could make out the shriveled root hairs and buds. A rotted tree bent low in the distance. Beside it Merlin squinted to study a strange shape protruding from the ground. He started. It was a carcass, stripped bare.

“How could he have done something like this?” Merlin whispered. Salazar had given him a home, invested in his abilities...

“Salazar did what he thought was right,” Godric stated. “He and Uther have never seen eye-to-eye. They are both proud men. In some ways, it surprises me how similar they are.”

Merlin crouched by the first row. He set his palm on the earth and took a deep breath. When he exhaled, he sent a small spark of magic. It reluctantly trickled through the soil. His eyes shot open when he felt it stop, as if it had hit a brick wall just beneath the surface.

“I can feel it,” Merlin said. He looked up.

The knight nodded. “I thought you might. Unfortunately the only other information I found pertained to the reversal of ordinary growth spells. Because Salazar concocted this entirely new potion, we have no antidote.”  
  
“But if we know what he used in the potion we should know how to counter it.”

“He will not share that information with me. We are on our own, Merlin.”

Merlin willed himself to do something. Anything. He placed both palms on the earth. He closed his eyes.

 _Heal_. _Please heal._ Something tugged beneath him, a long line of energy that stretched far into the distance. He reached for it in his mind and dug his hands deeper into the soil, but no matter how hard he tried to grip the line, it resonated beyond his reach. Merlin panted, feeling the air around him grow cold. Wind. Wind began to blow. Leaves brushed his shoulders. The dead matter pulled from the gfound. The wall of tainted earth thinned. It was working! He gnashed his teeth and a scream deep in his throat forced its way up. He raked at the ground, but the life line slipped from the very tips of his fingers. Pain lashed up his arms, as if he’d submerged his hands in a cauldron of boiling water.

Merlin cried out, eyes still shut. Arms snaked around him, burning his raw skin. He fought them like a mad man, squirming and thrashing until he fell to his knees. He was so close to piercing the black veil—the barrier that had thrown him back with residual heat of the magic. He was bare to the power. He could do it. If he could just release the wall…but no, would Salazar’s magic taint the energy line as well? The arms around his waist sensed his indecision and pulled him back up.

“Merlin!”

Merlin’s eyes shot open and he gasped. He and Godric tumbled back. His heart pounded out of his chest and his eyes were wet. He was crying. His whole body trembled. His arms were coated in mud. His skin burned.

“It’s alright, Merlin,” Godric held him closer and Merlin cried out. Godric let go and took a step back. “You’re alright, Merlin. Breathe.”

Merlin mouth worked like a fish out of water. It took several long minutes for him to stabilize. The pain in his arms subsided, leaving a dull muscle ache. His skin turned from fire to ice. Sweat suckered his cloak to his arms. The scratchy surface itched, but he was grounded. Merlin searched Godric’s face. Lines folded across the knight’s forehead and a tightness around his eyes told Merlin, Godric knew what he was about to tell him. But when it came to actually speaking, Merlin could not. _He had failed._

“You tried,” Godric consoled. “I should not have asked you to come. This magic is too dangerous.”

Merlin shook his head. “I felt it. Raw. The magic pulsed just beyond. I wanted to bring it up, to flood the earth with it, to purify it, but it was too powerful and I could not draw it. There was…I’ve never felt that before. It felt like my magic magnified but then in an instant, I had lost it all. I could not connect. It repelled me.”

Godric frowned.

“This potion, whatever it did to the earth, it’s deeper than we imagined,” Merlin said. “It’s as if a blanket covers the entire well of magic here…”

Godric drew up his wand and summoned light. A dim ball of white flickered at the tip of his wand and sputtered out. He gave Merlin a severe look. “This is grave indeed. No one can know about this, Merlin. Swear to me you will tell no one, especially Arthur.”

Merlin nodded. He could tell Godric was working something out behind his eyes, but he did not share. The knight pocketed his wand. “Come, Merlin. We need to leave.”

Merlin tried to stand, but his legs gave out from under him and he nearly fainted. “I can’t move.”

His text book chided him. Fighting to pull on the line had consumed his energy. Godric stooped to his side and looped an arm around Merlin’s back. With his help, Merlin dragged himself up.

“Stay awake, Merlin,” Godric said. “I’ll bring you to Ealdor.”

Just beyond Willowdale’s border they Disapparated.


	10. -4, 1005 (YEAR 3)

**FALL**

Screams ricocheted across Camelot’s lower circle. The city shuddered like a candle, homes and stables ablaze. The majority of the knights rallied together in an attempt to protect the heart of the city while the remainder issued commands to put out as much of the fire as possible.

“It’s coming back!” shouted Bertram. His voice was lost in the screeching roar of an enormous shadow. The knights shielded themselves in a defensive formation just in time. The dragon’s talons obliterated the tower and main gate. Before the knights could recover, the beast leapt from its collapsing perch and used the momentum to take flight. Its scaly hide rippled golden brown.

“Is it…” Uwaine squinted but the sun had long set and the burning tower blinded them.

“It’s gone for now,” Godric replied, “but it will be back. Quickly, men. Let’s put out these fires!”

\--

Godric threw open the door to the throne room. “My lord, Camelot is secure for now. The beast flew off, where we know not, but we cannot stand another attack.”

“I will not rest until we kill every single one," Uther said. "Set up a host of men to guard the city. I want the rest to scour the Darkling Woods! Well root out the beasts one by one.”

Godric clenched his teeth. “Yes, Sire.”

He bowed and turned into the hall where Gaius fell into step beside him.

“You know why this is happening. We cannot allow Uther to destroy the Dragons,” said Gaius.

“I know.

“You must seek out the Dragon-Lords. They will know what to do.”

“They will not come.”

The two rounded the corner and halted in front of the make-shift infirmary where more than a dozen men lay on cots.

“It’s our only hope,” Gaius said softly.

\--

September class schedules brought a fresh buzz of excitement to Hogwarts. Over their first breakfast the founders explained that an increase in enrollment and the need to forge inter-house comradery informed their decision to begin mixed classes. The Heads of House handed out personalized schedules by year. Merlin rose from the Slytherin table and walked over to where Freya sat, already comparing her schedule with Linne’s.

“Great!” said Freya. Her eyes darted from the top of Merlin’s paper to the top of her own and then down the line. “Though I see you’ve still got private lessons with Master Salazar every other evening.”

Merlin nodded. He had been surprised his master bore no grudge. If anything, he seemed more determined to tutor Merlin. “I spoke with him at the feast last night. He said we would be covering more advanced potions, possibly divination and curing spells.”

“Divination is tricky. Good luck!” said Linne.

The bell in the clock tower rang. Students filed out of the Great Hall to their respective lessons and Common Rooms. Merlin and Freya said goodbye to Linne. They held hands as they walked to their first new class together: Care of Magical Creatures. Third and Fourth Year students shuffled into a room off the courtyard hall. Merlin and Freya found seats at the front of the room and started to remove their note-taking supplies when Master Salazar and Mistress Rowena entered. Each carried a large covered cage and floated several smaller cages ahead of them. When they set them on the teaching desk, all rattled and snorted.

“Welcome to your first Care of Magical Creatures lesson,” Rowena said. “Over the next few years we will cover a variety of creatures, including some you may have heard of: Mermaids, Fairies, Trolls, Dragons, Phoenixes, and Griffins.”

Merlin and Freya exchanged grins.

“Magical creatures are primarily studied to aid the advancement of potion brewing, not domestication. Only select beasts may approach a wizard, become a Familiar, or aid in hunting. You will find a complete list of creatures within your _Bestiary: Liber de Natura Quorundam Animalium_ ,” said Salazar.

Merlin eagerly opened his book to the index.

      * **Chapter 1: Fliers**
        * Dragon
        * Griffin
        * Chaladrius
        * Phoenix
        * Pixie
        * Faery
      * **Chapter 2: Trotters**
        * Forest Dwellers:
          * Manticore
          * She-Bear
          * Wilddeoren
          * Unicorns
        * Mountain Dwellers:
          * Man-like:
            * Giants
            * Trolls
          * Horned Mountain Jumpers:
            * Antalop
            * Ibex
            * Yale
          * Large Mountain Cats:
            * Tigris
            * Lion
            * Panther
        * Ground-Dwellers:
          * Hedgehogs
          * Blast-Ended Skrewts
          * Basilisk
          * Arachnia
      * **Chapter 3: Swimmers**
        * Aspidochelone
        * Sirens
        * Mermaids



Merlin flipped through the book. For each creature at least three images detailed its eating, survival, and mating habits. He almost laughed aloud when he turned to the Bonnacons. He chose another random page and landed on the Chaladrius bird, a creature that foretold a person’s death by sitting at the foot of his bed. Merlin shivered and picked a page closer to the back of the book: Aspidochelone, whale-like creatures big enough to mistake for an island. If every Care of Magical Creatures lesson was as interesting as his book promised, he would be in for a fun year.

Rowena waved. “There are many talented witches and wizards who have the gift of tongues, but anyone can learn to speak, for instance, Mermish.” Their books flew open to the corresponding page. The bottom left corner framed a drawing of a Mermaid and a human conversing by a lakeshore with a few lines of Mermish in slanted hand-writing underneath. “An understanding of magical creatures is vital to our traditions. As young witches and wizards, it is your duty to become acquainted with other creatures of magic. Certain individuals may even possess qualities that allow them to form relationships with magical beasts more readily than others. You may discover that you are one of these. For today’s lesson, you will split into groups of four comprised of two third year students and two fourth year students. Each group must have two boys and two girls.”

Rowena waved her wand and the cages unveiled themselves. The two larger ones bore fully-grown rodent-like beasts. Merlin’s eyes widened. They were the size of wild boars. The smaller cages each held a baby of the same creature. “Each group will have their own Wilddeoron.”

Salazar flicked his wand and their books automatically spun to the appropriate page while trays of vegetable matter floated forward. “You will take notes about its eating habits and draw your own diagrams. This report will be completed by the next lesson. Begin.”

Many students tried their usual cliques, but found that they did not fit Rowena’s parameters so they were forced to split. Merlin and Freya remained together and attached themselves onto a quiet pair of Fourth Years. The professors conducted a cage to each table. Merlin and Freya got to work.

Freya offered up a carrot to their specimen. “Have you heard from Arthur at all?”

“Not really. I visited Camelot during the summer, so we didn’t write. I usually send him a letter after the first day of class though.”

Merlin thought back on their conversation about Freya. For some reason, it made his heels feel itchy. He wanted to say something, but didn’t know what or why. There was no reason to be embarrassed about being Freya’s…Merlin frowned. They were…, right?

“That’s nice. I bet he likes that.” Freya smiled, pleased that the Wilddeoron ate her offering. She scribbled in her sketch book, allowing the Fourth Years to try a few dandelions.

Merlin muttered an agreement and managed to doodle something that he hoped looked like a Wilddeoron.

Later that night, Merlin concluded his study session with Freya and Linne and retired to his room. He washed and sat down to write.

_Dear Arthur,_

_Unfortunately I will not have much to write about as I’ve only just started the term, but I’ll do my best. Today was my first new subject called Care of Magical Creatures. There are many creatures I’ve never heard of, and some I definitely never want to meet. The work is easy so far, just a lot of writing and drawing. I am awful at drawing. I bet you would do a lot better._

_How are things in Camelot? Have you kept on with your training? In short: how are you?_

_Your friend,  
_ Merlin

                The next morning, Merlin arrived at the owlry only to find that Archimedes had already brought him a letter from Arthur. He tore the seal and read.

_Dear Merlin,_

_Camelot is in ruins! The castle was attacked by a dragon just after you left for Ealdor. We’ve spent the last fortnight clearing as much of the rubble as possible. Father is in an absolute frenzy. He’s sent nearly all the knights to flush out the remaining dragons from the Darkling Woods. Dragons must be the foulest creatures in the world. I hope Godric finds them and slaughters them all. He left a week ago and hasn’t returned. Have you seen him at Hogwarts?_

_Enraged,  
_ Arthur

Merlin gripped the letter. It started to burn and he hurriedly let go, stamping it out. Archimedes chirped at this curious behavior. Merlin dumped his bag on the floor, removed his quill and ink, and despite his surroundings, sat down to write.

_Arthur,_

_What a horrible thing to say! Did you learn nothing from our experience? Dragons are noble creatures. They attacked Camelot because you have been hunting them for sport, but unlike deer, they can fight back. I am truly sorry to hear that the city, your home, has been destroyed, but you cannot fault them for defending themselves._

_As to your question, I have only seen Godric at the Welcome Feast. I have a class with him tomorrow.  
_ Merlin

Merlin crumpled his first letter and only attached the response. Archimedes hooted, rubbed his cheek against Merlin’s fingers, and alighted. Merlin did not regret his decision. What kind of friend did that make him?

\--

                Godric had spent the week leading up to the term tracking men, not dragons, but it was no use; the Dragon-Lords had disappeared. He had but one option left.

_Balinor,_

_You are the only person I can trust with this task, the only one who wishes to preserve peace, and the only one with a connection to the dragon I believe attacked Camelot a fortnight ago. The King has all but ordered the destruction of the dragons. I beseech you. Speak with him. Uther will not listen to me. I know the King has acted savagely in his sport, slaughtering by the dozens. I can understand the thirst for revenge, but I beg you. Seek an audience with him and settle this feud. Dragons will not live to see the days of Albion if they retaliate and the world we know will cease to exist if Uther has his way._

_Ever your ally,  
_ Godric

\--

Balinor passed through the main gate of Camelot. Above him Kilgharrah’s shadow floated against a smattering of pink clouds. The guards said nothing to him. He walked unhindered to the upper circle. At the foot of the steps, a legion of Camelot knights waited.

“The king insists that you order the beast to remain on the ground for the duration of your audience.”

Balinor hesitated but Kilgharrah flapped down and nodded for him to continue. His wings settled and several knights stepped back.

 _I will not leave_.

Balinor turned to the men. “He will wait.”

Two guards escorted Balinor. He lifted his head as the great doors split.

“Balinor, son of Balinthor. Dragon-Lord of Essetir.”

Uther sat squarely on the throne. To either side of him stood a cloaked figure. They might’ve been identical statues had Balinor not noted the slight nod they both paid him. Beyond that, Balinor could discern nothing else, not even gender. Balinor bowed to the king.

“You come to speak on behalf of the Great Dragon?”

Balinor straightened. “My lord, you have hunted the dragons to near extinction. You view them as little more than game, but they are worth much more to you alive than dead. Dragons balance the magic in our world. Disturbing this equilibrium will cause unimaginable repercussions.”

The crease below Uther's crown deepened. Balinor swallowed and continued, “There is energy in this earth, the power that all magical beings derive their abilities from. Dragons, the most powerful of these beings, maintain this energy and feed from it. Without dragons, this power will grow unstable. We do not know all of its effects.” Balinor shifted his feet inward and took a deep breath.

“Would it not be better to capture all dragons?”

“They cannot be trained like dogs.”

“And yet you bring the Great Dragon to my doorstep—a feat no other man can accomplish.”

“It is a relationship founded on mutual respect, not fear and tyranny.” Balinor clenched his teeth.

“If you are certain they cannot be tamed, you condemn them.”

Balinor opened his mouth, but the pleas dried to anger. “What of the balance? Have you no respect?”

Uther laughed. “And I suppose fear is next?”

Balinor lifted his chin. “You play with powers greater than you can imagine and seek to wield what you cannot bear. Your arrogance will be your downfall.”

“Guards! Take him away. Kill the dragon.”

“ _No_!” Balinor's voice turned hoarse. The windows burst and the guards dropped under a shower of glass.

_Balinor!_

The screech forced everyone to cover their ears. Uther bared his teeth at the shadow hovering outside. A wave of flame flooded the throne room. Balinor ran. He stumbled down the stairs and into the courtyard. Kilgharrah had incapacitated the knights immediately surrounding him, but they both heard the second guard approaching.

_Run, Balinor!_

Balinor shook his head, “I cannot leave you. I brought you to this, my friend.”

_Your work is not done. Trust me. You must save yourself._

Balinor tried to approach the dragon, but Kilgharrah sent a row of flames between them to seal off the progression of the guards.

_Run!_

Uther bellowed, “Hunt him down! Bring the Dragon-Lord to me--dead or alive!”

Balinor fled from the wall of fire. Kilgharrah turned toward the square. The king, his knights, and the two sorcerers had appeared at the foot of the steps.

Kilgharrah posed a greater threat from the sky, but on the ground he could give Balinor time to escape. He swiped at the knights until Balinor passed through the first gate, then he threw his spiked tail at the wall. The stone crashed down in an avalanche. Kilgharrah threw his head back and a hot turret lit the sky.

\--

Arthur pressed his hands to the window and rolled onto his toes to find a better line of sight. The center of the courtyard caved, burning flagstones crumbling into the dark. He could see his father ordering knights. The Great Dragon doused another wall in flames. He threw open the window, and coughed, tears stinging as smoke blew into his room.

As it dispersed, Arthur thrust his head through the frame. Godric stood in the center of the courtyard, wand in hand. He called out to the dragon, but the king drew his sword and charged. The dragon jumped to a hover and lashed out his tail. The king fell, clutching his arm.

The dragon gained height and Arthur’s heart raged, propelling obscenities lost in another screech.

From beyond the corner of Arthur’s view, manacles spiraled forward and snaked around the dragon’s legs. The thud of its knees hitting the stone caused the whole inner sanctum to rumble. Arthur gripped the window frame. Two cloaked figures raised their hands and chanted. Godric shouted at them. They ignored him. He raised his wand but faltered when Uther stepped in his way. The dragon cried and Arthur could see the blood from where the chains tore the scales away to raw flesh. His father turned to an aisle of Camelot knights.

“Here is the Great Dragon,” Uther laughed. His injured arm hung limply. The legion of guards fighting to hold the dragon’s chains grew in number. “And I will be the one to destroy you.”

The beast growled through the charmed muzzle and Godric stood between them.

Uther paused. Godric kneeled and mouthed something only the king could see.

Uther turned to the Dragon. He swayed, gauging the size of the beast. Godric remained kneeling and Arthur could barely see his mouth moving still.

Uther waved a hand. “I won’t kill you. You will be made an example. For all those who oppose Camelot.” His grin turned manic. “You will be the last of your kind. I will bury you deep within the foundation of our city where your spirit will wither and your body decay. Down into the wet and dark with only a small hole so you can see the sky and hear the cries of your kin as they burn. That is your punishment, _Great Dragon_.

The dragon wrestled harder in its restraints, but could not break free from all the men now dragging it down.

Uther motioned for Sir William. “Chain him to the bedrock. Make sure he is secure.”

Sir William bowed and the men followed him into the abyss.

\----

**WINTER**

_Dear Arthur,_

_I am sorry for my harsh words, but I will not take them back. All beings deserve the chance to prove themselves. Dragons have a right to this world just as much as we do._

_You're my best friend, even when you're being an idiot. I suppose that isn't the best way to apologize, but I always tell you the truth.  And I know you. Beyond your anger and your rage, you want justice._

_You may never forgive me, but I hope you will listen. Although, I find a small measure of comfort knowing you may not read these. I can now write in full confidence. I will continue to pester you with my menial thoughts and you shall learn magic with me. You will know all my triumphs and I will share with you all my fears._

_The truth is, I fear for your life. Please say that Camelot has not fallen and that this letter has arrived in your hands._

_Always,  
_ Merlin

_\--_

_Dear Arthur,_

_I don't think I've introduced Linne. He's a good friend of mine from Hufflepuff House. Brilliant in everything plant and creature related. Today he told Freya and me that he may study abroad. It saddens me to think one of my two friends may be leaving. I suppose I will see him again, but it may be several years. By then, we'll be very different people. I think the same about us as well. Had we never met where would we be? Freya thinks we would still have become friends. I guess it depends on if you believe in fate. Either way, I hope you still consider me a friend._

_Sincerely,  
_ Merlin

_\--_

_Dear Arthur,_

_The older boys have started teasing me about the scarf mum made. I was going on to her about how the winter’s been really cold here so she sent me off with a neckerchief to wear. It’s actually quite nice and reminds me of home, but the first chance I had to wear it they were already at it. They call it my beard seeing as I haven’t got one. Now before you get on your steed and come to my rescue, I’ll remind you of two things: 1) I promised to write you every day and therefore the content of some letters are bound to be lackluster and 2) You have no idea where Hogwarts is. Although I cannot deny: I would love to see the looks on their faces._

_Everything else is the same as ever._

_Your friend,  
_ Merlin

\--

Merlin deposited his satchel at the foot of his bed. Still no word from Arthur. He flopped onto the mattress and took a moment to simply close his eyes. Tonight was another private lesson with Master Salazar, and utterly draining mind-melt. Merlin tried to make a list: extra potion brewing practice, defensive spellwork, transfiguration, and botany. Magical creatures, instruments, and charmwork quickly ceased to be topics for private lessons when Salazar realized Merlin excelled proficiently on his own. They still needed to touch on protective wards and healing spells...

Merlin tipped his head sideways. It was a bad idea. The soft pillow begged him to close his eyes for just a moment longer than a blink. Bliss. No rambunctious roommates in. No chatter from the common room. The constant lull of the lake water lapping against his window…

 _Merlin_.

His eyes shot open. He threw himself out of bed, scrambling for a clock. He stopped, allowing his memory to catch up.

Lessons!

Merlin sped up the stairwell, out the common room and into the hall. He flew into Salazar's office and sputtered an apology to an empty room. Merlin froze. Was he still dreaming?

"You're perfectly awake and late, Merlin." Salazar close the door behind him. "No matter." He motioned for Merlin to sit. "Tonight we pursue the study of Legilimency and Occlumency."

Salazar turned his wand on Merlin. "I will attempt to penetrate your thoughts. You will block. Partition your mind."

Merlin had a fraction of a second to riddle what 'partitioning' meant before a jolt of pain pinched his temples. Everything collapsed inward. His vision flickered to blackness, then exploded to encompass every part of him. His eyes spun reels of memories in accelerated time, but he knew Salazar could see them too. He lingered just out of Merlin's vision, arriving at Camelot for the first time. He was a face in the market. His shadow fell across Arthur swimming and his  feet scuffed the front door close behind his mother.

Merlin gasped, pawing at the edge of the desk. Too hot and too cold. Embarrassment burned and anger cooled.

"Focus, Merlin."

"I don't know what I'm doing!" Merlin panicked.

Merlin had never disputed Salazar's methods before, but this practical approach to Occlumency was impossible. Every time he reached for the memories, they darted away.

" _Legilimens!_ "

Camelot's banners whipped against the clear sky. Merlin could taste the wind. He heard two voices beside him--Leon and Arthur, arguing over-

"Focus."

"On what?" Merlin choked, clutching his head. His palms were slick. He leaned forward to stay the nausea, pressing his forehead to the desk. For a moment, Merlin was certain Salazar would not answer. The headache lessened. Salazar placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder.

"Focus on yourself," he said softly. "Take the part you want to protect and seal it away. Imagine a room with no windows, just walls. Imagine the dark and let it consume you."

Merlin tried. Again and again. They practiced for two hours before Salazar permitted him reprieve and even then, he could hold his ground no longer than ten seconds.

\--

_Dear Merlin,_

_Your letters could never be lackluster; the antics of my idiot wizard friend are ceaselessly entertaining compared to that of my every day court duties, and you know I cannot stay angry with you. We are the same. We cannot afford to lose our friendship. If that is not an equally ridiculous apology, I don't know what is._

_Now, it is my responsibility to inform you what became of the Great Dragon. My father used sorcery to capture it. It is chained below the ruins of Camelot, which we are rebuilding. Despite my father's injury and Camelot's destruction, I could not wish this fate on any creature. You once again know me better than myself._

_Godric arrived too late. He must have begged my father to reconsider, but my father would not concede._

_I followed Godric to the catacombs. I heard him speak to the beast. At first it would not hear him, but when he introduced himself it spoke. "Godric, son of Godwin. Balinor spoke well of you, of your honour, your courage. Where was your courage today?"_

_Godric knelt before the dragon and lay down his sword. "I do not seek forgiveness. Only a way to make amends. What must I do?"_

_"You have already begun to shape the future. You will pay your debt in time. This was meant to happen. I wait here for the day when the strength of earth's sons will rise. You will do your part to protect the Once and Future King. Soon Lionheart, you must make a choice. You must be brave. You must show strength. You will gain two enemies, and lose many brave men."_

_The next day, I heard Godric arguing with my father. Father wanted Godric to employ the Knight's Rule and invite only those of noble blood to learn at Hogwarts. He showed Godric a list of surnames. Godric argued that anyone with magic has the right to learn. Being born of noble blood could qualify you to become a knight, but it did not qualify someone to be a sorcerer. People are born with magic._

_My father protested but Godric held his ground. They said no more on the topic but father was furious. Godric and he have always argued, but not like this._

_I cannot comprehend it,  
_ Arthur

\----

**SPRING**

_Dear Merlin,_

_My father has issued a new proclamation. By year's end, wizards wishing to sell their goods and practice magic, must purchase an official license to do so. My first duty as prince will be to ride with my uncle to catalogue names, family status, primary use of magic, affiliations with other magical families, and duration of magical practice for every witch or wizard across Camelot._

_I for one, do not agree with enforcing a license. Farmers and smithies do not require licenses! I can understand my father wanting to protect the people of Camelot from a dragon but restricting people's livelihood?_

_I have heard nothing from Godric. Sir William has taken over many of his tasks in his absence. Unfortunately, Leon and I have put our training on hold. My only hope is that my father will reconsider. What are your thoughts? How are your studies? Will I see you this summer? My uncle and I may cover some of the closer towns before the summer and resume after, so I will be in Camelot. Please say you will be._

_After all this strife, it will be good to have the company of a friend.  
_ Arthur


	11. -3, 1006, SUMMER

Camelot's turrets capped the tall grass to the east. Arthur and Merlin laughed, rolling on the ground to create a flat circle in the very center of a sun baked meadow. When they sat up, they brushed the bits of dirt from each other's hair and opened their bags.

“Happy belated birthday, Arthur,” Merlin smiled, offering a lumpy bundle with both his hands.

“Happy early birthday, Merlin,” Arthur replied, doing the same.

“You first!” Merlin ordered.

Arthur didn’t have to be told twice. He undid the tie and the wrappings unfurled into an invisible blanket over his crossed legs. “Is this what I think it is?”

Merlin grinned and rolled forward on his knees so that his face was inches away. Arthur’s eyes widened and he froze. Merlin took the edge of the invisible cloth. “Remember I gave you that Disillusioned handkerchief?”

“Yeah.”

Merlin threw the cloth up and over Arthur shoulders. “Well, I’ve been practicing!” When the weight of it settled, Merlin brought his face down so that their foreheads nearly touched. Arthur inhaled the faint smell of a blown out candle overpowered by sweet grass. Merlin’s fingers tied the two cords into a knot under Arthur's chin. Merlin stuck out his tongue in concentration and finished with a bow. He sat back and grinned. “Ta da!”

Arthur stopped staring at Merlin and looked down. His whole body was gone.

“It’s an Invisibility Cloak. Mind, it only works for so long. The spell will wear off, but it’ll probably do you at least a month or two if you don’t use it too often and keep it in good shape,” Merlin smiled.

Arthur reached behind his neck, searching for a hood. He found the sides and pulled it over his head. “How do I look?”

Merlin laughed.

Arthur reappeared and gestured toward the package still sitting in Merlin’s lap. “Now my present is total rubbish.”

“No it’s not!” Merlin said automatically. He reached for the gift and tugged at the wrappings. A pair of boots thumped into his lap.

“You’re always complaining about the cold weather and I’ve seen the state of your shoes,” Arthur explained guiltily. Merlin’s shoes were so hole-ridden it was a surprise that they still stayed on his feet. He didn’t know why Merlin couldn’t just repair them using magic, but he wasn’t complaining. The opportunity was too good to pass up. “I thought you might like a new pair.”

“You got me shoes,” Merlin said.

Arthur shrugged. “It’s a bit girly.”

“These are _really_ nice.”

“Yeah well they would be, wouldn’t they? They’re my old pair that I never fit,” Arthur admitted.

“So you’ve given me hand-me-down shoes? As a birthday present?” Merlin asked, at which point his grin was so wide Arthur pressed his lips together.

“Just put them on.”

Merlin toed off his old pair while unbuckling the left shoe. He slid his foot into the leather and Arthur could see the relief spread across his face. The boots covered his entire ankle so that if he tucked the end of his trousers into the boot he would stay considerably warmer. Merlin buckled it up and did up the other. Then he stood and walked in a circle. Of course they fit perfectly.

“They’re brilliant. Thank you, Arthur!” Merlin squatted and fell into Arthur for a hug. He hugged back before losing balance. They both toppled backward and lay staring up at their patch of summer sky. Arthur curled his pinky around Merlin's.


End file.
